Sacrosanct
by ncfan
Summary: Yasuda Sayo on gender, magic and death.
1. Songs of Magic

I own nothing.

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><p>"…<em>Let it be heard. I am one yet many. What I speak is our tale. However, this is a small world, sealed by glass and cork, with no one to hear. None shall lay eyes upon it, and my entire tale shall be sealed away, set adrift in the sea of my heart until it disappears along with the seaweed…"<em>

-Clair vauxof Bernard, EP7

-0-0-0-

Yasuda Sayo often had occasion to go to the Director of the Fukuin House over her own loneliness.

You see, the Fukuin House was a sad place for those children (mostly girls, but there were some boys there as well) who had no relatives, or had no relatives who were willing to take care of them. It was natural that a small child, upon realizing her situation, would be sad. After all, her parents were dead, and as for the rest of her family, either they were dead, or they had simply decided that she was not worth the burden. Surely that must have been how it was for Sayo. She was so frail and puny that she was too much a burden for her poor family, so they gave her over to this sad house. It was only natural that she would be sad, though she knew she should not blame her family for giving up such a frail kid like her.

The Director taught her how to see angels.

"I know your sadness, Sayo. It must surely be imprinted upon your soul. But you must understand that you are never alone. We live in a world full of angels, Sayo. They are always praying for your happiness."

"A world full of angels? But why can't I see them…"

"Oh, child, you only look at the world with your eyes. Once you try to see an angel with your eyes, you never will see them; the touch of human eyes will burn an angel's skin. You must instead look with the eyes of your heart."

"…M-my heart…"

"Yes, Sayo. God looks down on us all from golden heaven. The whole world is filled with God's love. You see it manifested in the small blessings of daily life. God is here with us, but if you try to look at the world with naught but your rational eyes, you will never 'see' God, nor will you see His angels.

"It is with your heart that you believe in God, and with the eyes of your heart, you will quietly understand. Your will not 'look'; you shall 'see', and the love of your heart will give them shape.

With the eyes of her heart, Sayo saw many things. But sometimes, she wondered why she only ever saw witches, and never angels.

-0-0-0-

There was something wrong about her.

Oh, Sayo wasn't a good servant, she knew that. She was much too young and frail and clumsy to ever be a good servant, and she was dragging the other girls down with her. That must be why they always called her 'Yasu' instead of Sayo or her blessed name Shannon, even when they knew that she hated being called by the surname-given name amalgamation that many of them used. That must be why they would leave her in the chapel to find her missing supplies by herself even when it was growing dark and she was so scared of being scolded that her hands were shaking. That must be why they always looked at her so coldly and treated her like she was a burden. She _was_ a burden after all.

And that must have been why Madam was so impatient with her, because Sayo was such a poor servant. Madam was a strict taskmaster, a perfectionist; she demanded nothing less than the best. And the dignity of the Ushiromiya family was such a weighty thing that of course Madam didn't want it sullied by something so small as a clumsy servant. Of course Madam was so impatient with her. Who wouldn't be?

She would have to find a way to get better. Kumasawa-san and Genji-sama, they were the kindest of all to her, and they told her that she would get better as she got older. But until then, Sayo knew that she would just have to work harder than everyone else so that they could see that she really was taking this seriously.

"_Geez, why did we get stuck with this stupid kid?"_

"_This is sloppy work. Clean it again. Don't stop until you get it right!"_

"_Yasu! Quit dawdling! What, did you forget your key again?! What's Madam going to say?!"_

"_God, why did we get stuck with her?"_

(Sayo had the feeling, sometimes, that nothing she did would ever be good enough. That even if she was perfect, they would still think she was stupid and clumsy and sloppy and not-good-enough, they would never see her as anything but that. She told herself to forget it, that of course they would see that she could do a good job if she could just figure out _how_ to do a good job. It wasn't their faults, after all, that she was so clumsy and careless.)

And she knew it must have looked like she was getting special treatment. After all, Sayo was working as a servant to the Ushiromiya family, the most prestigious appointment a dependent of the Fukuin House could receive, several years earlier than most children could expect, and even though she was supposed to give her schoolwork the most focus, she was still receiving full pay. She couldn't even do most of a servant's chores! On top of that, she had been given a room by herself when everyone else had to share a room on Rokkenjima with one or two other servants, and the senior servants, Kumasawa-san and Genji-sama, both seemed to go easy on her in ways they didn't go easy on any of the other girls from the Fukuin House. Sayo had always been warned that when people didn't get equal shares, resentment would follow. But she wasn't being given special treatment, really. She had to work just as hard as everyone else, and Madam came down on her twice as hard. It just looked like she was being treated better than the other girls.

There was something wrong with her in other ways, too.

Sayo sat on the edge of her bed, flicking long strands of pale hair away from her shoulders. It was so empty, this room, in comparison to the one she'd had at the Fukuin House, the one she still used on the weekends, but she did not long for the place where she had been brought up. The sense of alienation and isolation from others had been just as strong there. No one wanted to play with Sayo, that strange and sickly little kid who was always so feeble and given to dark dreams. They could sense the wrongness about her, she guessed.

Sayo didn't feel like a girl should. She knew what girls were supposed to be like, of course. They were supposed to be graceful and pretty, delicate and yet quick-witted, clever enough to live their lives without stumbling. That was what a proper girl, a proper woman, was supposed to be like.

And yet, Sayo wasn't anything like that. She didn't look good in a dress; the fabric inevitably sat wrong on her shoulders and around her hips. The bones stuck out too much from her elbows and her wrists and her knees. She wasn't graceful; everybody already knew that. Sayo was such a clumsy servant, so no one was surprised when she proved to be utterly graceless as a girl, too. And Sayo wasn't pretty like Milady or some of the older girls. She had long, lank blonde hair that was already, slowly but surely, starting to turn some dank, mousy shade of brown from spending most of her day inside. Her limbs were disproportionately slender in comparison to the rest of her body; there was no strength in them at all, and she tired so quickly. Sayo wasn't clever or quick-witted at all, either; how could she lose stuff as often as she did if she had a good head on her shoulders?

(Sayo told herself that the witch Beatrice was pranking her on account of her carelessness. The witch who lived in the darkness between patches of light just waited for someone to lay down a key or a broom and take their eyes off of it. If they did that for even one second, Beatrice would open up a portal to her shadow world and take the forgotten thing for her own. Sayo had seen her do it, in the chapel.

It was easier to tell herself that than to admit just how careless she was. It was easier for Sayo to pretend that she was being picked on by a witch—who had since become Sayo's uneasy friend—than to admit that she frequently mislaid objects and couldn't spot them afterwards even when they were there in plain sight. If she tied her keys to bits of string in her pockets, it was easier to pretend to believe what Kumasawa-san had told her, that the string was like a spider web and repel the witch, than to admit that she was so thoughtless that she needed to tie her belongings down.)

That was what Shannon was for, Sayo supposed.

Though she was a young girl and, in her situation, it would have been perfectly understandable for her to create and believe in imaginary friends, Sayo never harbored any illusions about exactly what Shannon was. If she indulged in illusions, she was always careful never to stick her head below the surface of the water; if Sayo was afraid of anything, she was afraid of drowning.

Shannon was not an imaginary friend so much as she was an image. It would not be until many years later that Sayo remembered her as bearing the appearance she did as a teenager, but as a child, Sayo did indeed imagine Shannon as being what Sayo might look like when she was older. But different. Shannon was pretty, and calm and confident and self-assured. Shannon was graceful and competent, always kind, never spiteful or mean-spirited. She never mislaid keys; she always did a good job on the dusting. She went to bed early and rose before dawn. She was never tired or lazy, never gossiped or treated others rudely. Shannon was the model servant, beloved by all. She was the ideal girl, the ideal woman. She was everything Sayo was not, everything Sayo longed to be.

Sayo conjured Shannon's image beside her, the shade upon whom she had bestowed her blessed name, and imagined what she could be.

And wished that, for one moment, she could feel comfortable in her skin.

-0-0-0-

Sayo had hoped that, when the servant girls who had served alongside her when she started were to leave, she could make a good impression upon the girls who came afterwards. (And Sayo said girls because, really, Madam seemed to prefer female servants and had instructed Genji to choose them over the boys. The number of boys who had been selected from the Fukuin House in all the time that the orphanage and the Ushiromiya family had had their arrangement could be counted on one hand.) Kumasawa-san had always encouraged Sayo to work hard for this reason. Whenever the little girl was sad or depressed, Kumasawa-san told her that the girls who came to Rokkenjima in the future, even those who were older than her, would look up to Sayo if she could just give off the impression of a calm, competent servant. Even Genji-sama told Sayo that it was her responsibility to help the new girls.

For that reason, among others, Sayo had worked hard. She had been very careful not to lose sight of things and give Beatrice any reason to play keep-away with her belongings. She had always been careful to be as thorough as she could be in her cleaning (And if she did occasionally do a slapdash job, she told herself she would do better tomorrow). Sayo had tried so hard to be what Shannon was, to gain the respect of Madam and Krauss-sama and Master, to gain the respect of the other girls from the Fukuin House.

"…_Don't call me Yasu! I hate being called that."_

_One of the girls, Sanon, spared her a backwards glance, but there was only scorn in her gaze._

Sayo had wanted to make a good impression on the new girls who were coming, but that could not be. The older girls had already gotten these two new ones believing that she was a clumsy, dim-witted kid who lost things all the time and couldn't do anything right—Sayo couldn't help but feel a little sad that they had never gotten past their first impression of her (_But why would I even want to be friends with them?_). Shannon just told her to forget it and move on without holding any grudges. Sayo would try for that.

On top of that, the new girls weren't exactly the cream of the crop. There was not a hint of nervousness in Asune or Berune, not a trace of the gravity that servants of the Ushiromiya family should have been possessed of. Sayo had sometimes heard rumors that unsuitable kids could pass the adults' inspections by behaving the way they knew they wanted the Ushiromiya family's prospective servants to behave. It was uncharitable of her, she knew, but she wondered if Berune and Asune had done that.

And of course, they didn't take Sayo seriously at all, not about being diligent, nor about the Witch. They were instead all too ready to mock the way Kinzo wailed Beatrice's name and giggle behind their hands at Sayo's seriousness.

"_Who does she think she's kidding? Shina and Hoshi told me all about her; she's the most forgetful girl the Ushiromiya family's ever taken on as a servant! We're way better than Yasu."_

Then, one day, Berune left her master key ring lying on a bed, and completely forgot about it.

Sayo swallowed hard on the angry lump in her throat when she saw it. She knew she shouldn't be angry, not with Berune—if she was to be angry with anyone, let it be with herself. If Berune couldn't take her job as a servant of the Ushiromiya family seriously, it was Sayo's responsibility to make her see how important this was, and if Berune persisted in being careless, it was Sayo's fault. Sayo hadn't wanted to be as harsh with Berune and Asune as the older girls had been with her, but it seemed that the soft touch wasn't doing any good.

Berune really needed to be taught a lesson…

It was ironic to think that it had been in the chapel that Sayo had first been tempted by the Witch's power. Objects disappearing and reappearing so far from their natural place that they could not possibly have gotten there by accident. Was it the prank of a human, or the magic of a Witch? Beatrice, dressed all in red, sneering demonically, hovered over Berune's shoulder and winked at Sayo.

_Come on. You know you want to do it. Give them a taste of what it's like to be the one who loses things. You'd wanted to do it to Runon that one time. She glared at you afterwards, grinding her teeth after being humiliated in front of Genji-sama. Even though it was her own fault, she blamed you in her heart and treated you cruelly for days. In spite of all her ill treatment of you, you couldn't help but feel a little satisfied that it was someone else being scolded for once._

The thoughts were uncharitable. But they weren't about to go away.

Hiding the whole key ring would be too obvious; Sayo had learned from her mystery novels that small tricks were better. While Berune and Asune's backs were turned, she slid one of the keys off of the key ring and stowed it in her pocket. It wasn't easy; the ring was stiff and Sayo had always had trouble with them. But somehow, she was able to get the key off without Berune noticing.

It felt…

It felt good.

The hairs on Sayo's arms and the back of her neck all stood on end. Her skin prickled; she felt as though jolts of electricity were replacing the blood in her veins. Not once had Sayo ever tried to influence the world in this way before, and it felt better than she could have imagined. As Berune realized that her key was gone, and she wheeled around to accuse Sayo, Sayo merely stared at her calmly, and projected out the thought: _I was not responsible. The Witch, Beatrice-sama, has taken your key as punishment for your carelessness and your lack of respect._

_Yasuda Sayo did not take your key._

Was this what it was like to use magic? To have power over people who trampled on her (No, no, no, that was an unkind thought)? Asune watched on skeptically, but Berune's expression gradually changed from one of anger… to fear. She was afraid of Beatrice. If Sayo tried hard enough, she could believe that Berune was afraid of her. And well she should be.

_Beatrice-sama has taken your key, as punishment for your carelessness and your disrespect of her name and her power._

After all, Yasuda Sayo had just become a Witch. Yasuda Sayo had just become Beatrice.

Lying alone in the dark of her room, listening to the rain drum on the roof and splatter against the windows, Sayo made some alterations to her characters. She was rather bored of being a servant. Once, long ago, she had aspired to be like Shannon, to be the model servant, the model woman. She was rather bored of being a human, too. The gray days all ran together; schoolwork, chores, schoolwork, chores. They were occasionally (or rather more often than the word 'occasionally' implied) punctuated by being yelled at by Madam.

In reality, Sayo was still a servant. She knew that. She knew it wasn't going to change any time soon, that there wasn't anything she could do to change it. It was in her best interests to aspire to be like that image of herself she had always affixed Shannon's name to. But a servant's work was so _boring_. There was nothing fulfilling about it, when Sayo never received any acknowledgement or praise of her hard work. Madam never noticed that she was working hard, never praised her; she only noticed mistakes, and yelled at Sayo over those. She could clean the whole mansion by herself without anyone else's help, and Madam would never notice. But if she forgot to dust one windowsill, she'd be shouted at until her ears rang.

Sayo had tasted magic. She had touched the world, instead of just watching it pass her by. For one moment, for one breathtaking moment, she had felt powerful. As a servant, Sayo would never have any of her efforts acknowledged, nor have any of her hard work praised. But maybe as a Witch, if she could convince others of her presence, her power, things could be different…

Smiling wistfully, Sayo summoned up Shannon's image to sit on the bed beside her. "I… I'm sorry, Shannon. I guess I can't become like you after all."

She still wanted to be liked and loved as a servant, but that wasn't where the lion's share of Sayo's efforts was going to go anymore.

And she wasn't just going to have Beatrice as a friend; Sayo was going to _be_ Beatrice. She would still keep Shannon, and the old Beatrice, who would have to be nameless for now. They were her friends, after all, even if they were only characters she had made up. There was love in their creations, and how could she throw that away?

But 'Beatrice' would need a new look. Beatrice's big sister-like friend would keep her appearance, that of the demoness with the blood-red dress and golden curls; Sayo didn't want to steal that from her. Now, the Beatrice whom Sayo was to be needed to look different from the old Beatrice, _very_ different, so that the two would not be confused for one another.

Sayo shut her eyes, and imagined swimming amongst a pitch-black sea of stars and planets and comets with glittering tails as she thought of what she would become.

Sayo hit upon a solution from all the stories she had heard of Beatrice from Kumasawa-san. She was seen as a white shadow haunting the halls of the Rokkenjima mansion at night. A white specter… Beatrice would be a Witch who was like a ghost, dressed all in white.

She would have an elegant white dress, and a strong, noble look to her face. She would be lovely, beautiful, even, but her mouth would quickly curl into a sneer as the tell of her mercurial nature. The tone she took would often be rude and overly direct. Beatrice was, after all, like a queen, answerable to no one; why should Beatrice speak in submissive tones?

This new Beatrice would be tall and graceful. She would have vivid blue eyes, not like Sayo's dishwater blue-gray eyes. Her hair would be shining white, not like Sayo's fading-to-brown blonde hair. For all of her rudeness, she would possess all of a lady's graces. She would be possessed of a terrible dignity to match the reputation of the Witch who had given Kinzo all of his gold and captured his mind in the throes of obsession.

And she would have immense power, if others would just believe in her.

To become Beatrice was as being reborn.

"_Let us modify the world."_

"_Oh, I am one yet many."_

Now, the form of her magic would have to change. It was Beatrice's friend who made small items disappear and then reappear in places they could not have gotten to by accident. Sayo imagined gold butterflies, appropriate for a Witch who had given Ushiromiya Kinzo ten tons of gold. Sayo would keep a Witch's traditional weaknesses, spider webs and mirrors. It seemed only fair that a Witch should have weaknesses, and a mirror really was a weakness. She didn't like mirrors. No matter how much she pretended, they always showed her pitiful self.

The home of Beatrice now was to be the VIP room on the second floor of the mansion.

Sayo would spend many nights imagining the sort of world Beatrice lived in.

Beatrice was her secret, her best-loved secret. As Beatrice, she was powerful. She was not a hapless, timid servant whom everyone looked down upon, but a powerful Witch. She could make even the most stalwart tremble. And others would know of her. Pranks on the servants who took the night shift were the best. But it wasn't mean-spirited. Because she wasn't Shannon, the kind and lonely servant who just wanted to do her best and have her hard work acknowledged. She was Beatrice, the fickle, thousand-year-old Witch who ruled Rokkenjima's night. If all she decided to do to a servant was pull a harmless prank on them, they should be glad. They all knew the stories of worse that had happened. Everyone knew the story of the servant who had fallen from a cliff and died, long ago.

And when someone spoke the name of Beatrice with terrified reverence, Sayo smiled.


	2. Dreamer, Dream

_Dreamer, Dream_

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><p>Sayo was bored of being a servant, a human. To be these things and nothing else meant to live out the same procession of gray, fruitless days indefinitely—who knew when she would be able to leave the island, as young as she was? She was destined to be bound to Rokkenjima, to be a servant of the Ushiromiya family, for the foreseeable future. She was doomed to the same routine. Why not seek respite, seek some variation on the endless gray days? Her mystery novels were part of it, but she could only seek them out on breaks or in the evenings after she had finished all of her homework and afternoon chores.<p>

So she had become a Witch. She had conjured Beatrice out of the nothingness of her subconscious just as she had conjured Shannon. As Beatrice, Sayo could touch the world, could touch the lives of those around her in a way that only she controlled. She felt… powerful. As Shannon, she could only ever be what she was—a servant, a human with no power to change anything. No one could have blamed her for wanting to be Beatrice more than she wanted to be Shannon.

Maybe she should have tried to find greater balance between her two personas instead.

"Honestly, I should think that after all of your time here you would understand what is expected of you! This is not a place where you can simply slack off and expect to get by! You are being paid to _work_, Shannon. I expect you to work!"

Madam was in a bad mood again, rubbing her forehead with one hand and planting the other on her hip. She had that scrunched-up look on her face that often accompanied one of her notorious migraines. Sayo couldn't help but feel sorry for Madam when she got her headaches; she shuddered to think of the way she herself would feel if she was in pain and none of the medicine in the world was enough to make the pain go away. And Sayo knew that pain could make an otherwise kindly person behave in ways that they never would normally.

Madam was in a bad mood again, and it was Sayo's fault. It was Sayo's fault that she was in a bad mood, and it was probably her fault as well that Madam had a migraine. To Sayo, it always felt like it was her fault when Madam was in a bad mood or had a migraine, even when it had nothing to do with her.

And if Sayo was being yelled at, it wasn't on account of anything Asune or Berune had done. She had been yelled at by Madam on account of her fellow servants' mishaps before. Berune had gotten better since she had had her key stolen, but Asune was just as careless as ever (even if she didn't disrespect Beatrice-sama's name, even if Beatrice stole her things on occasion, Asune never took the legend seriously, a source of endless frustration for Sayo), and Berune still had her slips, even when she had more respect for Beatrice. It would have still been her fault if it was because of Asune or Berune. Sayo, though several years younger than the other two Fukuin House servants, _was_ their senior, after all; she had been serving here longer than they had, and she was supposed to catch and correct any of their missteps _before_ Madam saw them.

But this time, Sayo was being yelled at and Madam was in pain and in a bad mood on account of something that was entirely and only Sayo's fault. Today, it was Sayo's job to dust the windowsills on the first floor. Since she was still little, even if she wasn't as little as she had been when she first started working here (if she just figured out the right things to eat, she'd probably be stronger, but she hadn't, so she wasn't), she wasn't given strenuous assignments. Dusting the windowsills was one of the easiest assignments a servant could be given, along with arranging flowers and taking towels back to the bathrooms after they'd been washed.

Sayo knew that dusting the windowsills was an easy assignment. She knew it was being given to her because she was so feeble, that allowances were being made for her _yet again_. It wasn't special treatment, but allowances were being made for her, nonetheless. Sayo knew also that Madam had never been terribly happy about such a child who couldn't do all of a servant's chores being among the girls who came here from the Fukuin House. She knew that Madam wasn't happy about the whispered implications that Sayo was just here to be a friend to Milady, and had insisted that Sayo do as much work as possible so that she really would be earning her keep here, rather than just being some tagalong kid trailing after the older servants.

And yet…

And yet she had missed some of the windowsills, today.

Sayo squeezed her eyes shut, keeping her head bowed. Not looking Madam in the eye, keeping her head bowed in her presence, that was only polite, but there was more than politeness to it today. Anyone, even those who stumbled on to this situation with no knowledge of what was going on, could have seen her shame, could have felt it radiating off of her. "My apologies, Madam," she said in a small voice.

Since her eyes were shut, Sayo heard rather than saw Natsuhi suck in a deep, ragged breath. "Apologizing doesn't make it right, Shannon. Apologizing does _not_ change the fact that you have been derelict in your duties."

Sayo bit her lip so hard that she drew blood. _But if I didn't apologize, you'd scold me for not showing proper remorse. _She quelled that thought before she could even think of voicing it aloud. It was her fault…

It really was her fault. She had been daydreaming when she should have been focusing all of her attention on cleaning. Images of some more friends and servants for Beatrice had popped into her head, you see, and she couldn't resist trying to think about what they looked like and what they would talk like and act like. She was also trying to think up a name for Beatrice's oldest friend, the big sister-like demoness who had been Beatrice before Sayo had given the name to another. She was thinking about 'Anne'; that was the name of her favorite character from _Persuasion_ (Mystery novels weren't the _only_ books Sayo read, even if they were her favorites). After a while, Sayo had realized that, no, that really wasn't the best name for Beatrice's oldest friend; that person was too lively for the name 'Anne', especially with a namesake like Anne Elliot.

_And there I go again. I'm thinking about all of this when I should just be focusing on my work._

"If you want to stay here—" Madam almost spoke as though she had any say about whether Sayo stayed or went when both Master and Genji-sama had insisted that she be accepted here "—you need to learn proper diligence. As punishment for your carelessness…" Sayo couldn't resist; she looked up into Madam's face, which was still scrunched up, still partially covered by the hand that she used to rub her forehead. "…You are to dust _every_ windowsill in the mansion, on the first, second and third floors. No one is allowed to help you—not Asune or Berune or Kumasawa-san or Genji-san. I will supervise you, and you are to do this until you _get it right_." The last three words of that sentence almost came out as a snarl.

As Sayo dusted the windowsills, Madam did indeed supervise her closely. She hovered at her shoulder, hands on her hips, and scolded her soundly whenever she did a substandard job dusting, though she never actually showed Sayo a better way to dust.

About halfway through the windowsills on the first floor, Sayo chanced a backwards glance at Sayo. Madam was barely watching her at all, her head bowed. She was leaning against a wall, still rubbing her forehead with her hand, but now she was letting her hand cover up much more of her face than before, obscuring her eyes from view. Her other arm was draped about her front. Her shoulders were hunched, her mouth crammed into some thin, jagged line.

It hurt to see.

Being scolded by Madam was like being scolded by her own mother. Sayo supposed that she had parent figures of a kind in Kumasawa-san and Genji-sama, Kumasawa-san being the kind, understanding mother figure and Genji-sama the distant, remote, but still kind in his own way father figure. But they were of an age to be Sayo's grandparents, especially Genji-sama, who was around the same age as Master.

Sayo supposed that she must look up to Madam the way a child might look up to her mother. Madam was, after all, young enough to be Sayo's mother, being the mother of a child only a few years older than Sayo herself. And Madam… Sayo was always trying to impress Madam. That wasn't always the thought at the forefront of her mind, but she was always hoping that Madam would acknowledge her efforts, would acknowledge how hard she was trying to be a good servant. And when she thought about it, Sayo realized that she was hoping for Madam to acknowledge her more than she was for Master or Krauss-sama. After all, Madam was the supervisor of the servants; Madam was the one who appraised their work.

Which was probably why moments like this made Sayo want to curl up into a ball and wither away.

She felt absolutely pathetic. During moments like this, Sayo didn't feel like a servant of the Ushiromiya family. She felt like a little girl playing dress-up in clothes that were far too grown-up for her, what with her half-corset and slit skirt and prim black shoes. And there she was, being scolded pitilessly by her mother for some mistake, but there was no warmth in that scolding, no hint of love. It was the kind of scolding a pathetic little girl like Sayo got when she was being scolded by someone who barely tolerated her presence in her home. It was moments like this when Sayo felt like she would never have her efforts acknowledged, by anyone.

_But she's so kind to Milady Jessica. Always, even when she's being stern with her. Why isn't she kind with me as well?_

_Oh._

_That's right._

_I'm not her child. I'm just an orphan from the Fukuin House. I'm just a servant. I'm just a nuisance._

It was true that Sayo wished for Beatrice to be acknowledged. That was why she would sometimes slip out of bed and play pranks on those servants on the night shift, late at night, even if she was horribly tired the following morning. But that didn't meant that she didn't want her efforts as a human being acknowledged too, even as bored as she was with it all.

Having acknowledgement was better than being constantly chastised for her failings.

Sayo did not finish her punishment to Madam's satisfaction until after dark, by which point Madam was in an even worse mood because she had missed supper and her absence would surely be an embarrassment to the family. Sayo was miserably hungry when she was finally allowed to go back to the room set aside for her, but she didn't want to eat, not even the food Kumasawa-san had set aside for her. She was afraid that if she ate anything she'd be sick.

Sayo took her bath in silence, enduring Asune and Berune's sniggers in the washroom outside of the bathroom with ears she tried her best to deafen. Even though she was the most experienced girl from the Fukuin House, she still had to endure this…

For once, Sayo was grateful for her single room. In the past, she had been lonely, and had wanted company. Whose company, she wasn't sure. Kumasawa-san went home to her family on Niijima at the end of the day, Genji-sama was a man and it would have been inappropriate for him and Sayo to sleep in the same room, and it wasn't like the other girls from the Fukuin House were people she would have been glad to room with. Maybe that was just another reason she had invented Shannon, so that she could have a kind and gentle voice with her in this lonely space, so that she could imagine that there would be someone here to comfort her if she woke up unsettled after a nightmare.

It was still a lonely space. Sayo lay awake in bed in her loose pajamas, staring up at the ceiling. The room was sparse, barely furnished; the bed's mattress was thin, the sort that was deliberately thin so as not to encourage comfort in the sleeper. The floor was bare wooden slats that creaked when gusts of wind hit the mansion. That only added to the lonely mood of the room. But in a way, her humble surroundings helped her. When Sayo imagined a more lush setting, her imagination could run wild in this meager space.

She was sitting out beneath the stars. The night was warm and dry with a breeze that was strong enough to cool her skin, but gentle enough not to ruffle the inky surface of the tea in her teacup. This was the kind of weather Sayo loved the best, and it was the only weather she imagined in this place.

Beatrice's home needed to be a spectacular place, fit for a Witch who was in many ways like a queen. Sayo's imagination did draw her to somewhat familiar climes, but this could not possibly have been mistaken for the real world. Yes, they were sitting beneath a wrought-iron arbor, around a delicate wrought-iron table painted white. Yes, there was a tea pot and porcelain cups full of tea sitting on their saucers. Yes, there was a magnificent rose garden that only stopped to give way to a dense forest. This all did indeed bear a superficial resemblance to the grounds of the Ushiromiya family's estate, but it was not the same.

This arbor was much prettier than the one on the grounds, and it never got dirty or rusted. The porcelain teapot and cups and saucers would never break no matter how many times someone with clumsy hands dropped them; no one would ever have to worry about having the cost of replacing the set taken out of their pay because one piece had ended up smashed against the floor. And the patterns on the porcelain the Ushiromiya family used were usually blue-and-white checkers or faded pink flowers, or there just wasn't any pattern at all and the pieces were plain white—those were the ones Madam brought out when Sayo was the one serving tea. But the porcelain tea set was beautiful white porcelain with gold filigree around the rims, polished so brightly that Sayo could almost completely make out her reflection in them (But never entirely; even here, Sayo didn't want to see her reflection).

The roses were not the deep blood red of the Ushiromiya's rose garden, the deep red that put Sayo in mind of living playing cards painting white roses red. They were gold that glimmered in the night, visited by golden butterflies adorned with stardust. The moon, whether it was full or a crescent or a sliver like a curled clip of hair, shone with incredible brilliance. The stars were like jewels hung up in the sky, diamonds and rubies and sapphires and topaz.

Here, in this place, Sayo never felt out of place. Her clothes were all smooth and silken; they never itched or abraded her skin. Her shoes never pinched her heels or made her bleed. Her clothes always fit right, too. She never felt gawky or plain wearing dresses, never felt inadequate in comparison to anyone else here as far as her appearance went. She never felt like she was less of a girl for being a frail little thing with too much hair and skinny limbs. She never felt out of place, or unwanted.

And if the tea never had much flavor to it, and if the cookies tasted a little like sawdust, Sayo barely noticed. It was a trade-off she could make. This was the Golden Land.

Sometimes, when she was here, she would assume the guise of Beatrice—not the old Beatrice, who dressed in red, but the new one, who was as a white phantom, a proud woman, a queen. Sayo liked to take up the guise of Beatrice in this place, to imagine what it was like to wear satin gloves and have pearls strung in her hair, to have magic at her fingertips, to feel powerful. She could almost imagine that she truly wore the guise of Beatrice when she followed after some of the servants at night (never Genji-sama or Kumasawa-san, but sometimes the girls from the Fukuin House or the adult servants who didn't respect her—Beatrice's—name) and opened locked windows or slammed doors. The mirror always showed a pathetic little girl playing pranks for no good reason, but so long as she didn't see her own face, she could imagine…

Tonight, Sayo had not assumed the face of Beatrice. She came as herself, as ordinary as she might be. She was taking tea, with her three guests all sitting at the table with her.

"I'm sorry," she told Beatrice's oldest friend. "I haven't thought up a new name for you yet."

The nameless demoness shook her golden curls and smiled at Sayo. "That's alright. I don't want an unsuitable name, after all. You're right; Anne wouldn't have done for me at all, and don't even think about Alice! Just don't take too long, okay? I won't wait forever, eheh."

"You will surely win Natsuhi's favor if you persevere," Beatrice assured her, taking up her teacup with prim hands that belied the way she slouched in her chair. "The essence of magic is perseverance, the unwillingness to give up just because the world tells you that something is impossible. If you persevere, eventually Natsuhi will see how hard you've been working."

Shannon smiled her sweet, gentle smile. "Let's give it our all together," she murmured, an echo of older, simpler times.

Sayo drank her never-very-flavorful tea, and smiled shyly over the rim. It was such a comfort, to be able to seek solace here.

-0-0-0-

Sayo didn't spend all of the nights she lied awake in bed putting together the pieces of the Golden Land.

Today had been a slightly better day than usual. Asune was sick with the flu and couldn't work, so it was just Sayo and Berune handling the chores usually allotted to the servants from the Fukuin House. Given that they had to do more work than usual, you might have thought that this was a bad thing—and indeed, Sayo had gone to bed far more tired and achy than usual—but really, it wasn't.

Asune was the one who misbehaved the most during the rounds, these days. Berune had been frightened by Beatrice into doing her job as properly as she could, and with minimal fuss as well—she really was getting a lot better. Berune was also much nicer away from Asune's influence; Sayo knew that Asune was likely the way she was to her because Sayo herself didn't really cut an impressive figure as a servant, but it was still nice to have a day when she was working with someone who, on her own, was willing to listen to her and do her job.

It was a slightly better day, which meant that it had been a quiet day. Everything had gone on without incident, Madam didn't scold Sayo for being derelict in her duties, and her homework wasn't even all that hard.

Now, Sayo was lying on her back on her bed, and wondering.

Where had she come from?

Any orphan would wonder this, any child without parents, without records of them. It was easy enough to suppose that her parents simply couldn't handle the trouble of dealing with a frail, feeble child like Sayo. There were plenty of poor people in the world who could barely afford to take care of healthy children; was it so unreasonable to assume that she had been abandoned because she was a burden? She wouldn't be the only child of the Fukuin House abandoned for that reason.

But lately, it occurred to Sayo that this explanation lacked imagination. She dreamt of whole worlds far away from this one. Was it really so unreasonable to imagine that her origins might be something more exotic, more profound, than simply that of a feeble child who had been abandoned because she was too much of a burden to her parents?

Sayo had read stories, not just mysteries but other books as well, where the protagonist, an orphaned little boy or girl, turned out to be the child of a king or queen or at least a very rich family. Those who had grown up in poverty and adversity turned out to be of noble blood, and of course, their parents always wanted them back, always took them in, always loved them just as though they had always had them. It didn't matter the kind of poverty the child had been raised in, didn't matter the lack of social graces, the rough hands, the dearth of education. There was always a happy ending in those kinds of stories.

Sayo couldn't help but remember the speculation that had been passed around the other girls from the Fukuin House when she had first come to work here. For a girl as young as her to be singled out as a suitable servant for the Ushiromiya family, there had to be a reason, there had to be. There had to be a reason that a six-year-old girl who was so little and weak that she couldn't do most of a servant's chores had been singled out like this.

Sayo remembered the whispers: _I'll bet she's one of the family's kids._

_Yeah, I'll bet that's it._ A sharp laugh would follow. _One of the family, Rudolf-sama or Krauss-sama or whoever cheated on their spouse and she's the result. Couldn't even stand to take care of her themselves, so they handed her over to the orphanage._

_No kidding. It would explain why Genji-sama and Kumasawa-san are both so soft on her. Heck, it might even explain why Madam hates her so much. You know, beyond Yasu being a complete hopeless case._

Could that be it?

There was an unwritten rule among the girl servants from the Fukuin House, passed around from the older, more experienced girls to the younger as a warning. If Rudolf-sama was visiting the island, avoid being alone with him at all costs. He would chase after anything in a skirt, and if you got caught alone with him in a secluded part of the mansion, there might be no avoiding it. There was an old rumor that a girl a few years before Sayo was born had to quit because Rudolf-sama had gotten her pregnant and Madam had expelled her for "conduct unbefitting a servant of the Ushiromiya family." Even if you wanted it, there could never be a freely-chosen path, you could never be entirely certain that he would have let you go if you'd said 'no.' Sayo didn't understand half of that, and wasn't sure she wished to.

Could she be an illegitimate daughter of one of the Ushiromiya family? It was a romantic notion, clearly in line with many of the books Sayo had read. A servant of a rich family turned out to be the long-lost daughter of one of its scions; that was a tale fit for a period drama. But, to be honest, she hoped it wasn't true.

In a book, that seemed fine, but in real life, it just seemed too cruel. Sayo had spent all this time as a servant of the Ushiromiya family, washing their clothes and cleaning their house, while she watched Milady Jessica play in the rose garden as a carefree child should and as the adult members of the family (at best) ignored her presence among them. A good servant should be like furniture, Madam always said, reliable but unobtrusive. It seemed too cruel, in circumstances like these, that Sayo should turn out to be a servant to a family that she should have been a part of.

She would take her imagination in different directions, instead.

-0-0-0-

Milady Jessica was a surprisingly good friend.

Not that Sayo thought that Milady Jessica was a bad person, or anything like that. In fact, she thought that Milady Jessica was a very nice person; she was kind of loud and brash sometimes, but she was kindly and loyal and she actually made a very good friend.

Sayo thought, sometimes, that Milady Jessica liked her company better than that of the other girls from the Fukuin House. That really couldn't be true, and even if it was it was probably only because Sayo was closest to Jessica in age, not because of anything about herself, but it did indeed seem that Milady Jessica sought out Sayo's companionship more than that of the other girls. They couldn't see much of each other, since Madam didn't approve of the two of them being friends and Sayo had so much work to do, but when they did, Milady Jessica was always ready to treat Sayo like a _friend_, not a servant.

It was an odd feeling. Odd, but not unpleasant.

It was the time of the family conference again. Usually, around this time of year, Sayo didn't do that many pranks as Beatrice, because all the servants were on edge and so was Madam, and her scolding and punishments grew more and more severe as the time drew closer. Pulling pranks and getting some of the servants in trouble, even if they did disrespect Beatrice-sama's name, that would just be too cruel. Actually, Sayo didn't think she'd ever been on duty during the family conference before. She usually went back to the Fukuin House during the family conference. She got the impression that Madam didn't want her making mistakes in front of the extended family, and Sayo… understood that.

This year, however, was different. Sayo wasn't sure why, but this year she was going to be present during the family conference. She was both terrified and exhilarated. If she messed up, or if Asune or Berune messed up, she would be even more harshly chastised by Madam than usual. At the same time, it was a golden opportunity, allowing Sayo to show how determined she was to do a good job to the whole Ushiromiya family. If she did a good job in front of the whole family, surely Madam would see that she _was_ a good servant, that she was a hard worker and not a shirker or a slacker or anything like that.

Milady Jessica wanted to introduce Sayo to her cousins.

"_Oh, come on, Shannon! Battler and George are really nice, and they'll love you, really! Maria will like you took, even if she is really little. You're so sweet; how could anyone _not _like you?"_

Something else that needed to be noted about Milady Jessica was that she was entirely too inclined to forgive Sayo her faults. But Sayo was forever in her debt for that, so…

The night before the family conference, Sayo went to bed with a smile on her face. Tomorrow was going to be a _good _day.


	3. Failure to Thrive

_Failure to Thrive_

* * *

><p>She had forsaken magic for a while.<p>

This sounds disloyal, doesn't it? What Sayo meant to say was that she had put magic aside for a while. No more hiding, no more withdrawing. But she had a good reason, you see.

The day of the Ushiromiya family conference was inevitable tense and fraught for the adults. They came to discuss their financial woes and beg Master for more money, which he would either refuse or give to them only with extraordinarily strict conditions. Madam always seemed to take her cues from him on how strict to be around others, though Master wasn't nearly as strict with the servants as she was.

Sayo, even young as she was, could see that Master's children didn't seem to like each other very much. Love was something that she knew she should not try to discern; that would be both beneath her and the act of someone who did not know her place. But Sayo was well-accustomed to double-edged barbs, and she could tell that the siblings were using these on each other most of the time. Madam was Eva-sama's favorite target, Eva-sama was Krauss-sama's favorite target, and so on. Asumu-sama and Hideyoshi-sama tried their best to stay out of it, but everyone else among the adults jumped into the fray with gusto.

It was different for the children.

This was the first time Sayo had ever been present at the annual family conference. Madam reserved the right to decide which servants would or would not serve the family at this time, and she had never thought Sayo worthy before now. Someone, Genji-sama or Kumasawa-san, must have intervened on Sayo's behalf, for Sayo herself knew that Madam harbored no higher opinion of her work now than she had last year.

"It's not just an opportunity to show the rest of the family how hard you can work, dear," Kumasawa-san told her, while chopping up mackerel to serve with lunch. "Madam has assigned you to see to the needs of the Master's grandchildren while the conference goes on. It's a wonderful opportunity for you to make new friends."

"B-but Kumasawa-san! Is that really okay?"

She laughed, but not unkindly as Sayo was often laughed at. "Oh, Shannon. You are a servant of the Ushiromiya family, yes, but you will not always be. There will come a day when it will be perfectly acceptable for you to be the friend of children of a rich family, and for now? Being a housemaid doesn't make you inferior to them in any way." Sayo wished she could believe that. "You already know Jessica-sama; you know what a good girl she is. Battler-san and George-san and Maria-chan are all sweet children and will treat you like any of their friends off of the island. You need only let them."

Of course, Sayo had already met Battler-sama and George-sama and Maria-sama. On occasion, their parents would visit Rokkenjima—usually to discuss money again; Master's children didn't actually like each other well enough to visit one another just to make social calls—and when they did that, they usually brought their children along with them.

Sayo had never interacted with Battler-sama or George-sama or Maria-sama in any capacity other than that of a servant. She and Milady might have snuck minutes together to talk about school or new music or nothing much in particular, but Sayo didn't have such an opportunity with the others. Maria-sama was really too young; Battler-sama and George-sama just had this tendency to kind of look through her. It wasn't Sayo's place to approach them, so she didn't, and they didn't approach her.

That didn't mean that Sayo didn't watch them together, of course. Milady Jessica and her cousins always seemed happy together, even when they fought. Their behavior was a far cry from that of their parents; Master's grandchildren seemed more like siblings than the actual siblings did. They played outside and roughhoused with each other (Well, as much roughhousing as such a tiny girl as Maria-sama could, and as much roughhousing Milady Jessica could commit to before being scolded by Madam). They played card games and board games usually stuffed in Milady Jessica's closet, unused, when they came inside. If Madam had let them, they likely would have played hide and seek in the mansion, even George-sama, who was a high school student.

Sayo thought that she would have liked to have had siblings like them.

Jessica had promised to properly introduce Sayo to her cousins this year, and she was as good as her word.

For a while, it was almost like having siblings. (It couldn't last, of course. Battler-sama and Maria-sama and George-sama would all leave the island tomorrow and go back to their lives, while Sayo stayed here, and never left except for school or to return to the Fukuin House—and the latter was occurring quite infrequently now.)

Maria-sama was such a sweet, winning child that Sayo could not help but be fond of her, even if Maria-sama could not actually string a sentence together and Sayo couldn't have a meaningful conversation with her. George-sama was very nice as well, someone Sayo was proud to know. He was quite intelligent, and was so perceptive that he seemed to know everything that was going on in everyone's heads. (To be honest, that might have been just a little frightening to Sayo. George-sama would surely think less of her if he could see just what was going on in _her_ head.)

And then, there was Battler-sama.

Battler-sama was probably the grandchild of Master's whom Sayo had had the least amount of contact with—and that was counting Maria-sama. Rudolf-sama and Asumu-sama's visits to Rokkenjima were the most infrequent of those members of the Ushiromiya family who did not live on the island. Sayo had probably been working at the same time Battler-sama was present on Rokkenjima perhaps twice, in all of the time she had been employed as a servant of the Ushiromiya family. She didn't know him, except to watch him twitch and squirm madly in his chair when he was made to sit still.

Sayo couldn't believe that she hadn't seen Battler-sama for how likeable he was before now. He was just… _Bright_. He spouted off ridiculous English phrases specifically to make Sayo and the other girl servants laugh; he was always trying to put Sayo at her ease. He never treated Sayo like she inferior to him; if he saw how inadequate she was, he never made mention of it, never let on that he had seen. That alone was more than enough to endear him to her.

"Ooh, I've got an idea!"

It had been sheer chance that had allowed Sayo and Battler to discover that they shared a love of mystery novels. Battler had pulled out the book he had brought with him to Rokkenjima, and it happened to be a mystery novel that Sayo had read a few weeks ago. They had fallen into discussing the novel, and mystery in general, crawling on to opposite sides of Battler's bed, Battler leaning back against the pillows and Sayo sitting straight near the foot of the bed. The two of them barely even noticed when Milady Jessica and George-sama withdrew from the room, under the pretense of returning Maria-sama to her mother's care. They certainly didn't notice when the two of them didn't come back.

Battler expressed joking frustration that Sayo had already read the book through when he was only halfway done. Sayo's eyes sparkled as she thought of a plan.

"What kind of idea?" Battler asked, grinning brightly.

Sayo's jaw hurt; that was how much and how widely she had been smiling lately. She couldn't remember ever feeling like this, giddy and giggling and smiling so widely for so long that her jaw hurt. "I—" she pointed to herself with both hands "—am the culprit! I have killed everyone who has died on the ship. Unless you figure out who I am before you finish reading the book, you will have to admit that every last murder was committed using magic."

Battler's reaction was immediate, and sadly quite reflective of the flaws in Sayo's logic. "Huh?"

She felt her face color. Of course she hadn't explained it right; if she had explained it right, Battler would have understood. "Well, umm…" Suddenly, Sayo started to feel small again, started to see her inadequacies for what they were. They hadn't vanished just because she was smiling; they wouldn't do that. "…What I mean is that, well… You know how fantasy is pretty much the opposite of mystery, right?"

He nodded. "Right."

"And what I mean is that mysteries are written so that the reader can solve them. But if a murder was committed by someone who can use magic, like a witch or something like that, you probably wouldn't be able to make heads or tails of how it happened, not by thinking the way a human would. So if you can't figure out on your own how the people on the ship were killed, that's the same as saying that they could have been killed with magic…"

Battler's eyes lit up. "Oh! I get it now, Shannon-chan. That sounds fun!"

Yes, _fun_. Battler thought that the pitiful games Sayo had played against herself to while away the empty evening hours sounded _fun._

Sayo smiled softly. "Thank you very much, Battler-sama."

-0-0-0-

Over the next few months, Sayo began to look for Battler's visits the way a prisoner in an oubliette would have waited for shipments of food and water, and all the while stared up at the small patch of blue sky visible through the bars towards her only salvation.

They had an arrangement. Since Sayo and Battler both loved mystery novels, whenever their paths crossed they would discuss the ones they had read. For the ones they both had read, they would compare notes, seeing how long it took each one of them to figure out the culprit's identity, talk about the book's solvability, and so on. For the ones they were reading right now, they exchanged speculation about who the culprit was, how the murders were accomplished and why the culprit was doing all of this. The 'why' was very important to Battler; he felt as though the structure of the mystery would completely fall apart without it.

The two of them did what they could to make it more likely that they'd see each other. Suddenly, Rudolf-sama and Asumu-sama's trips to Rokkenjima became much more frequent; suddenly, Battler found excuses to slip away from his parents during these trips when he hadn't before. Visits were usually scheduled at least a week in advance. When Sayo learned of these trips, she would beg Asune or Berune or Manon when the former two girls finally left to swap shifts with her, if it so happened that she wasn't scheduled to work during the visit. If that failed, she would outright beg Genji-sama to allow her to work during that time. From then on out, Battler came to find her during her breaks; that was the only time they could really talk.

Competition soon grew into a relationship based on mutual respect for the other's experience with mystery novels. Soon, it started to feel very much to Sayo as though they weren't really sneaking away just to talk about mystery novels. It felt like that was just the excuse they used to be alone together.

Sayo withdrew from magic. She barely needed it right now, you see. She didn't need to pull pranks as Beatrice to stay happy. She didn't need reassurance from all of her friends in the Golden Land that, of course Madam would eventually acknowledge her efforts, no matter how badly Sayo was scolded and then punished for laziness. Those friends began to gather dust in the background, sometimes stepping forwards to speak, but not often. After all, she had real friends now.

One day, she caught sight of her face in a window when she was sweeping the floors. Sayo had been thinking about Battler, wondering about his next visit (The last one before the family conference). In spite of herself (she did _not_ like mirrors, not at all; that had not changed), she looked at her reflection. _I'm… blushing._

Her cheeks were a soft, rosy color; they felt accordingly warm. Sayo blinked at herself, then looked away, both abashed and, somehow, pleased.

Maybe a bit more than a friend.

-0-0-0-

"_Only the heart can kill a person."_

-0-0-0-

Why did time have to fly by so quickly in situations such as this? It never moved quickly enough when Sayo was on her shifts, but when she was talking with Battler, having to duck her head every once in a while so he couldn't see her blushing, time slipped out of her hands like grains of sand from an hourglass.

It was the family conference of 1980, the second Sayo had served at. As had become usual, Sayo and Battler had spent all of their mutual spare time talking to each other, about mystery novels or about nothing in particular. Sometimes, it would turn to silence, Battler scuffing the ground with the toe of his shoe and Sayo swishing her skirt in her hands.

She wished she could leave this place.

It was such a foolish wish. Sayo knew she couldn't leave, knew deep in her bones, even at such a young age as ten (though she felt older, and was often complimented to the effect of her looking and acting older than her years), that her fate was bound to this place. Theoretically, she could quit being a servant, but where would that get her? She would just go back to the Fukuin House, that sad place for children without parents. Everyone would look down on her and scorn her when they saw just how pathetic she was, to give up so easily.

But Sayo must have mumbled that out loud, because Battler turned to stare at her intently. "How long do you plan to be a servant, Shannon-chan?"

She blushed and looked away, but the blush was one of shame, rather than secret pleasure. "…I don't know."

"If, someday, you decide to quit…"

"If I do?" He was talking about it like she had a choice.

"Come over to my place." Battler had stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking away from her. He laughed a little, embarrassment coloring his voice. "If you do, we won't need to worry about the time anymore."

"That's right…" Sayo's voice was far-away, her mind already drifting into deep fantasies. "We could be together…" Her lips quirked briefly in a smile. "…For as long as we wanted."

Surely that was just a fantasy, something to draw the mind's eye away from the realities of life. They had fun together on Rokkenjima; that much was true. Sayo liked Battler; she suspected—_hoped_—that he liked her. 'Like' was quickly becoming an inadequate word with which to describe the depths of Sayo's feelings for him, but she didn't see how they could ever see each other outside of Rokkenjima. Battler was a part of the world, and she was stuck here. Stuck in the same milieu, the same endless procession of gray days, stuck working a job where no one acknowledged her efforts nor took notice of the work she was doing at all except to scream at her if she had done it wrong.

But Battler shook his head. He _promised_.

"When that day comes… I'll come for you, riding a white horse."

He _promised_.

So there was a way out of this life, after all? Battler had provided the way out. Sayo, who had read some of the Greek myths, thought he was like Orpheus, trying to lead Eurydice back to the living world from the lands of the dead. That could be just like what was going to happen with them. Battler said he'd be ready to lead her back to the land of the living whenever she was read, whenever she felt like it. He _promised_.

Later, Sayo would wish that she had said "I'm ready!" right then. She would wish that she had jumped into his arms and begged him to take her away from this place right now. But at the moment, all she could do was sit and wonder at the fact that, at last, someone had offered her a way out of this life. There was a life for her, waiting beyond Rokkenjima?

It didn't matter if she didn't decide this year. He had _promised_ that he would come for her. And Sayo would be ready to leave this place behind forever, when he came. Just give it a year.

-0-0-0-

Love, Sayo decided, was the greatest of all emotions. It could not be manufactured, not even by a Witch of Beatrice's prowess. It had to be given by another person, and once it was given, it would stick with you until the end of time. Once you'd had a taste, you were spoiled for everything else.

That was why the world of humans was the one in which Sayo chose to live, for now. Because in the Golden Land, she couldn't be given love by anyone. There was only herself. It took two to create a universe, and love, the most important element of that universe, could never arise there.

So she would wait in the human world, for him to come back.

A year couldn't be that bad.

-0-0-0-

It was two months after the family conference that Sayo heard the news.

Asumu-sama had died suddenly. It was a terrible shock to everyone, as she had still been quite young, and the circumstances of her death were… _unexpected_, to say the least. Even more shocking was the fact that Rudolf-sama had remarried a scant two weeks after his first wife died, to Sumadera Kyrie who, as rumor had it, was visibly pregnant during the ceremony.

Most shocking of all was Battler's departure from the family.

Manon was the one who related the tale to Sayo; Manon was usually unflappable, but she seemed quite shaken as she recounted what she had heard. Battler and Rudolf-sama had had a terrible argument when the latter made his intentions to marry Kyrie-sama known. Battler felt that his mother's memory had been disrespected, that his father had no respect for Asumu-sama, if he could do something like this. As such, Battler had left to live with his maternal grandparents. He had even gone so far as to change his surname to his mother's maiden name, casting off the name of 'Ushiromiya' entirely.

"That idiot doesn't know how good he has it," Manon muttered. "If _I _had a rich family—no, wait, if I had _any _family at all—I'd never leave them."

Sayo couldn't bring herself to scold Manon.

So, would Battler still come to the next family conference?

The consensus amongst the mansion and its inhabitants was that he would not. After all, he had gone so far as to remove his name from the Ushiromiya family register and take on his mother's maiden name instead. Genji-sama counseled the servants to forget about it; it was not, by any stretch of the word, their place to worry about the goings-on of the Ushiromiya family. They were instead to welcome Kyrie-sama and her child to the family as though they had always been there, and would treat them with due respect, as though they had not come into the family under such dubious circumstances.

The image that filled Sayo's mind, during leisure time and work (Madam had taken notice and had threatened to send her back to the Fukuin House in disgrace; everyone knew this to be an idle threat, as Madam would have needed Master's permission to fire a servant, and short of the most serious offenses, Master could never be bothered to fill out the required paperwork) was of Battler's back as he had left with his still-whole family this past family conference.

Would she ever see him again?

Sayo didn't know what to do. If she could have just asked him herself, that would have laid it all to rest. But she didn't know Battler's address, didn't know his phone number. Besides, whether or not he answered to that name, Battler was still a son of the Ushiromiya family; it would be the height of presumption for Sayo to contact him in such a way, as though they were equals.

_Battler-san… You said that you would never come back to this place. But that's a lie, right? I mean, you did promise you'd come back. That meant something to you, didn't it?_

_Of course it did_.

She was crying, but she sat up in bed and dried her eyes. It was easy enough to put the setting of the Golden Land in front of her and to take the forgotten dolls out of the closet and dust them off. Beatrice and her demoness friend gave her the words of reassurance she had so badly wished for.

Everything was just being blown out of proportion. Of course Battler would be angry that his father had remarried so soon after his mother's death; it was only natural that he would want to retreat to his grandparents' house to stew and collect his thoughts. But eventually, Battler and Rudolf-sama would reconcile; that could very well occur within the year. No matter how they quarreled, father and son surely loved each other and would want to repair their relationship. No one could say with certainty that Battler would never return to Rokkenjima, and Sayo was foolish to think in that way.

Beatrice, eavesdropper that she was, pointed out that Battler and Rudolf-sama were always in the midst of some argument or another. That just added fuel to the fire of the idea that of course Battler would come back eventually. This argument could not be too different from all the others.

There was nothing Sayo could do to hasten Battler and Rudolf-sama's reconciliation. She did not need to worry about it.

Of course Battler would come back.

-0-0-0-

Sayo worked through the year with those words engraved upon her heart '_Of course Battler-san will come back. There's no way he wouldn't.'_

In the meantime, she began to map out what she would do when she quit her job as a servant and left the island. Sayo hadn't really given it a whole lot of thought before, but in this, she really was planning to start a new life with Battler, wasn't she? So Sayo needed to do some more planning. It all came down to her resolve. If she hadn't made any plans, hadn't taken any steps, her resolve would be as fragile as a delicate glass figurine set on a window ledge during an earthquake.

Money wasn't a problem. Sayo _had_ been earning full wages in all the years she had worked here, after all, and unlike the other servants, she hadn't had anything she needed to spend it on, still being a dependent of the Fukuin House and having all of her needs met by that place. Once she was old enough, she could figure out where Battler lived, and rent an apartment near his house.

Of course, she would have to work to support herself while she attended high school; Sayo had no illusions about that. But she'd been working most of her life, so it wouldn't be much of a change of pace. Maybe her new employers would be nicer to her…

If Sayo wasn't a servant anymore, there wouldn't be any real difference between her and Battler. She could call him whenever she wanted, visit him in his home whenever she wanted. Whatever relationship they had would be allowed to blossom. Sayo didn't know if it would lead to marriage or anything like that. She hoped it would, but she wasn't sure. She was really too young to be thinking about this sort of stuff anyways. But when she did think of it, Sayo supposed that Battler might have thrown away the name 'Ushiromiya' specifically _because_ he wanted a future with her; it would have caused problems, for him to marry one of his family's servants. She could believe that. In her heart of hearts, she wanted to believe that, even if the idea was kind of silly.

They would make their own universe. Sayo was certain of that, at least. If she only had faith, he would come.

-0-0-0-

_Ushiromiya family conference, 1981_

Everyone welcomed Kyrie-sama as though she had always been here. It was a little disconcerting, to say the least, at how easily Asumu-sama was forgotten, even more disconcerting to see that Kyrie-sama was all but actively encouraging everyone to forget that Asumu-sama had ever existed. Madam was quite stiff around Kyrie-sama (she had been absolutely furious with Rudolf-sama for his indiscretions), but everyone else did indeed act as though Kyrie-sama had always been Rudolf-sama's wife. Little Ange-sama, less than a year old, was treated as though she had not been the product of adultery, which Sayo supposed was only fair; whatever the parents might have done, the child was innocent.

Battler had not come back.

George-sama was of the opinion that Battler had simply gone out into the world as all adult men eventually had to. In his eyes, it was natural that Battler had simply left the nest several years earlier than most young men did. To George-sama, this was natural, it was to be expected, and it was only natural that Battler would never come back. That worried Sayo, more than a little bit. George-sama had always been very insightful; he always seemed to know all the answers. And he was quite adamant, making very certain he got his point across to Sayo, that he suspected that Battler wouldn't come back at all. If George-sama thought that this was a permanent arrangement, might it be?

Battler had not come back.

He hadn't come back for her.

Once again, Sayo found herself leaning on the shoulders of those she had thought she would put away, not needing them anymore. She needed their insight, their comfort. After all… Sayo had not shared her feelings with anyone. So the only person she could seek comfort from was herself. Sayo could put up a smile to the world, face the world as though she didn't feel hurt, but she needed their comfort.

She didn't need to mope. Beatrice had said it herself, hadn't she? This was a trial, a test of Sayo's devotion. Despair would get Sayo nowhere.

God had often tested his faithful. He had allowed the Devil to test Job, with every torment imaginable permitted except that which would end in Job's death. Job had faltered at times, lifted his eyes to the heavens and screamed, but in the end, he had held fast. His faith was rewarded, in the end. So would Sayo's.

She would wait. Love was patience. Love had hope, had faith. What was faith except to believe in someone you couldn't be sure existed, and to believe that something would happen when you couldn't be sure? Love could wait. So could Sayo. (Even if it stung like the thorns from a rosebush, dipped in acid.)


	4. Cracks in the Glass

_Cracks in the Glass_

* * *

><p>"Genji-sama?"<p>

It had been a long day. Some business associates of Krauss-sama's came to the island to meet with him, and Madam had all the servants attending to their needs, on top of their normal duties. Sayo had managed to get through the day without spilling anything or committing any unintentional acts of rudeness. Unfortunately, all had not gone well. Sayo had been sent out to serve tea to Krauss-sama and his associates—originally, it was supposed to be Manon serving tea, but the cook was sick and Manon had to help Kumasawa-san prepare dinner—and when asked what sort of tea she was serving, Sayo couldn't say. No one had told her what sort of tea it was, and she had been behind schedule; she'd barely been able to stop in the kitchen for more than a few seconds to wheel the cart out towards the parlor.

As was to be expected, Madam was not pleased with Sayo's ignorance. Her scolding stung. It was all Sayo could do not to protest that she wasn't the one who was supposed to bring the tea out in the first place, _Manon_ was. Manon had probably known because she was expected to know, but Sayo wasn't supposed to be the one serving tea today, so how could she have known?

The words were bitten down, but with such difficulty that Sayo was sure that Shannon would have been ashamed of her. Kumasawa-san and Genji-sama, too, but at least they would never have to know.

All in all, Sayo was relieved when the day drew to a close. Hopefully, tomorrow would be better; that was the only way she could ever avoid a scolding. After Genji-sama reviewed the shifts for the rest of the week with the other servants, Sayo approached him, smiling what she hoped was nothing more than an innocent, disaffected smile. "Genji-sama, may I speak with you?"

Still sitting at his desk, Genji-sama looked up from the timetables. "What is it, Shannon?" he asked, his tone just as detached as ever (Sayo wished she could sound so detached, sometimes).

"The family conference is in a month, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. I assume you wish to work during that time?"

"…That… That would be very nice, Genji-sama."

He nodded. "I will discuss it with Madam and the Master, then. I see no reason for why they should refuse you."

Sayo beamed. "Thank you very much, Genji-sama!" She hesitated, staring down at her feet, before asking, "…Genji-sama… Do you think Battler-sama will return this year?"

At that, Genji-sama stared at her, his eyes narrowed—still, his face managed to reveal nothing. "It is not my place to say," he said finally. "Whether or not Battler-sama returns to the Ushiromiya family depends on him and on Rudolf-sama. Do not trouble yourself with it, Shannon. He is not for you."

A sick, shamed heat crawled up her neck. _Am I really so transparent? _Sayo hung her head. "Yes, Genji-sama."

It was the second time that day that Sayo had bitten down on protests before they could escape her mouth. It was the first time that day that she had lied.

-0-0-0-

She wasn't prepared to leave last year. That was the sad truth. Sayo hadn't cleared her resignation with Madam; she hadn't even filled out all the paperwork needed in order for her to resign at all. Indeed, Sayo had put everything off until the last minute, unwilling to do anything that might jeopardize her life here, gray and repetitive as it was, until she was sure that Battler would come for her.

Surely her lack of faith was the reason he hadn't come.

The root of love is faith. Sayo held that truth as self-evident in her own heart. One could not love God without having faith that He existed. Having faith was believing in someone when she had no solid proof of their existence or trustworthiness. Having faith that something would happen meant believing that it would happen even if she had no proof.

In order for love to exist, faith had to enter first. Sayo needed to have faith in Battler and believe that he would fulfill his promise to her, but she also needed to be the sort of person he could have faith in, too.

"_God is testing you," _Beatrice advised. _"But God is not heartless. If you show faith, He will reward you."_

This was a test, wasn't it? If it was not God's test for his child, it could still well be the world's test for Yasuda Sayo. If Sayo lost faith, she would fail, and be left alone with her misery and shame. But if she kept faith, Battler would surely come for her, no matter the obstacles, no matter how many people said it was inappropriate for them to be in love, beneath him and too high for her. Genji-sama said that Battler "wasn't for her", but the differences in rank wouldn't matter at all once Sayo was no longer a servant of the Ushiromiya family. This was the modern world; differing social classes was no longer an insurmountable impediment to marriage. Once Sayo was no longer a servant, there would be no difference between them.

_I really need to think about this. I have to think about it, dream about it as much as I can. The image of it must be as clear to me as the world around me._

The daydreams Sayo conjured in her lonely little room had begun to take on a different shape. They were not of the glamorous past of her mystery novels, nor the static present of the Golden Land. They weren't of the Golden Witch or her demoness friends dressed all in red. Sayo's daydreams were of the soft future, filled with humans. There were no witches or demons or spirits in the future. There was no need for them.

Sayo wanted to marry Battler. She was no longer afraid to say it, no longer feared being seen as presumptuous or greedy. She wanted to become Battler's bride. As an orphan of the Fukuin House, a child with no parents and (originally) no money, Sayo had never been encouraged to dream of a lavish wedding. The children of that most Christian house were never encouraged to dream lavish dreams. But when Sayo left Rokkenjima forever, it so happened that she would no longer be a child of the Fukuin House. She would be allowed to dream.

Sayo had on occasion flipped through magazines the older girls brought with them to read while on break. Benon had been especially fond of wedding magazines. She was also the only one of the girls on Rokkenjima when Sayo started working there who would let the little girl touch her magazines. _"Well… Okay… But only because you're always so careful with your books. You'd better be careful with this too, Yasu."_

There had been a young woman in one of those magazines who had captivated Sayo the first time she laid eyes on her. This woman was slender, with pale, silky skin, long dark hair that gleamed in the camera light, and large brown eyes. She wore the most beautiful gown Sayo had ever seen. It was, of course, pure white, as was befitting a bride, strapless and mostly backless, though the bust was modestly covered. The dress had a v-shaped waistline, only to flare out in a soft, frothy skirt, gilt with silver; the skirt trailed on the ground nearly a foot behind her. There was a caption of the young woman lifting her skirt high enough to reveal her shoes—white satin shoes with low heels and a bow on the front of each shoe, pinned down with a diamond. The young bride's white gloves went up nearly to her shoulders, and her sheer white veil, trailing nearly as far as her skirt, was also gilt with silver. She was radiant.

Sayo bit her lip. She wasn't nearly as pretty as that woman. That woman was beautiful; she would have looked stunning even covered in dirt and wearing nothing but sackcloth. Sayo wasn't nearly as blessed as her. She looked passable when clean and wearing clean, flattering clothes. Milady Jessica snuck her a curling iron for her birthday this year; Sayo thought she looked passable with her long brown hair curled, too. But 'passable' was about as good as it got for her.

Manon thought that there was something 'foreign' about Sayo's appearance. _"You look a little like those European actresses in the movies. I don't know, it's something about your eyes and your face." _Manon wasn't the only one who thought so. Sayo had on more than one occasion heard couples looking to adopt from the Fukuin House commenting on the foreignness of her features. After hearing it so many times, Sayo knew it wasn't a coincidence that all of the couples had decided not to adopt her soon afterwards.

There had been a few children like that at the Fukuin House. Sanon, for one, was rumored to have been abandoned for her albinism, though heaven help anyone who said so in her presence. Children like that were rarely considered attractive. Milady Jessica broke the mold, despite being even more foreign-looking than Sayo (and Sayo was grateful, at least, that her hair had finally turned brown, a more natural shade for the Japanese), by being friendly, outgoing and fairly charismatic among her schoolmates.

Sayo herself had none of this going for her. She wasn't outgoing or charismatic. She wasn't even considered particularly friendly; one of her acquaintance-friends at school described her as 'distant.' Her hair was lank when left uncurled; her skin was pasty; her eyes were an uninteresting shade of blue-gray. Her voice was deeper than was considered attractive in a girl, and had the added disadvantage of being scratchy as well. Sayo had shot up in height over the last few months, and was now taller than most of the girls in her year group, but otherwise, she still had the body of a child. Her arms and legs were still skinny and gangly, she had no hips or breasts to speak of, and she hadn't even had her first period yet.

She wasn't pretty. She was, at best, 'passable.' The most gorgeous wedding dress in the world wasn't going to make her look pretty. But…

But Sayo shook her head. It didn't _matter_ if she was beautiful, or even pretty. Battler hadn't made that promise to her because she was pretty; he made it to her because he _loved_ her, and wanted to spend his life with her. Love was blind. Everyone said that love was blind. Sayo could wear as lovely a wedding dress as she wished, and love would lend her radiance.

After their wedding, they would have to live in a small apartment at first, as most young couples did. Sayo knew that, as Battler's wife, she would be expected to tend to the home and not work outside of it. She was sure that Battler would work very hard, and her own money would go towards saving up for a larger apartment or maybe even a house. In the meantime, she would light their home and make new friends in a new city.

Once a few years had gone by and they were more financially secure, they would have children. Sayo had never felt any special longing for children, but at the same time, she had never been able to imagine married life without seeing children there too. Having a child was the ultimate symbol of a marriage. What was marriage without a child? It was just a pair of signatures on a marriage license; it was too fragile to hold up forever.*

On how many children they would have, and what their children would be like, Sayo didn't dare speculate. Children were God's blessing to the world. It was not her place to speculate, not even in her wildest dreams. But Sayo imagined the sense of warmth and fulfillment that came with being a mother, and it didn't matter that she specifically kept herself from imagining what her children would look like. She could hear their voices clearly enough.

What would it feel like to wake up every morning and see Battler lying beside her in bed?

Sayo smiled up at the ceiling, and if her hands were shaking, just a little bit, she pretended she didn't notice.

Surely, he would come back for her.

-0-0-0-

Sayo read three new (well, new to her) mystery novels in the month leading up to the annual family conference. Consider it a… A promise of her own.

-0-0-0-

(She filled out the paperwork this year, but when she got to the part where she had to sign her name, Sayo hesitated, bit the nib of her pen, and ultimately put the paperwork away. Later, she would wonder if things would have gone differently, had she worked up her courage.)

-0-0-0-

_Ushiromiya family conference, 1982_

"Oh, Shannon! I didn't see you there."

Sayo opened her eyes and straightened her back automatically. When she saw George-sama standing just a few feet away from her in the hall, her face flushed with embarrassment and she sketched a deep bow. "George-sama, my apologies. I… I was unaware…" She straightened again and forced a cheery smile to her face. "Was there something you needed?"

George-sama shook his head and smiled gently. "No, there wasn't anything. I was just going to get something of Mother's." He narrowed his eyes. "Are _you _alright, Shannon?" he asked seriously. "The way you were standing…"

He probably meant 'the way you were leaning up against the wall, arms folded so tight against your chest you might as well have been in a straitjacket, with your eyes screwed shut all the while.' That was probably what he meant.

"Oh, it's nothing, George-sama. I… I'm just a little tired, that's all."

"Yes, the conference can be overwhelming." So that's what he thought it was. "And without Battler-kun around to lighten the mood, well…"

Sayo's hand clenched on the end of her skirt.

"I'm sorry for my mother." She stared at him, surprised, and George-sama rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. To be honest, it was probably the most relaxed gesture she had ever seen out of him. George-sama had always been very kind to her, but he seemed a bit… formal. Even considering the differences between them. "She wasn't kind to you."

"It was my own fault, George-sama." Whether or not it was, that was the response she was expected to give. "I should have been more careful with the tea."

He frowned a little, but didn't contradict her. "I have to head back now. It was nice talking with you, Shannon."

"Thank you very much." The words felt bitter.

-0-0-0-

Sayo missed the days when Milady Jessica only asked _her _to come to her room and talk. She was being uncharitable, and what good did it do to complain about a situation that she couldn't change? She could only endure it. But still, she missed the days when Milady Jessica seemed content with Sayo's company alone. Sayo doubted she would ever be comfortable sharing Milady's attention with Manon.

Manon was a bit nicer than the other girls who had come from the Fukuin House. Sayo would admit that. The fact that Manon was a little younger than the norm for girl servants probably had something to do with that. She wasn't so far apart in age from Sayo, and couldn't really look down on her as a much-younger, inexperienced girl as Runon and Renon and Sanon and Benon had. Neither had she been fed on rumors of Sayo's hopelessness the way Asune and Berune had been. Manon didn't look down on Sayo. She didn't laugh at her whenever she tried to tell her to do something. She didn't call her 'Yasu', either to her face or behind her back. Sayo had finally proven herself as a respectable role model to the new girls from the Fukuin House, and yet…

And yet she couldn't persuade herself to be trusting of Manon's smiles. She seemed harmless enough, but Sayo knew that her words had a sharp edge to them sometimes. Sayo found herself waiting, just waiting, for Manon to turn that sharp edge on her.

Milady Jessica liked her, though. Liked her enough that she had begun inviting both Sayo and Manon to her room at the same time, whenever they had breaks or when Madam was away; it was the latter circumstance, in this case. Milady and Manon were rather alike, after all—friendly, outgoing and, when away from the company of adults, rather loud—even if Milady wasn't nearly as sharp-tongued as Manon could be sometimes.

The real problem today, though, was the topic of conversation.

Manon laughed brightly in response to Milady Jessica's vexed face, her eyes crinkling upwards. "Totally! Why do guys turn into total morons when they get together?!"

Milady Jessica shook her face, hiding her head in her hands to hide how red her cheeks had gotten—Sayo could still see the red through the cracks between her fingers, though. "It was one hell of a reality check," Milady groaned. "I thought this guy was a bit cool, you know, mature. And _then_ I see him with some of the guys in our class, talking about all this dirty stuff, and he's just got this _creepy_ laugh! Did I tell you how creepy his laugh is?!"

"I think you might have mentioned it, once or twice," Manon remarked dryly.

"Well it's really creepy! It's like your worst nightmares gave birth to a voice box and stuck it in this kid's throat! It's the kind of laugh you hear from a serial killer right before he cuts off your head!"

Manon gaped at her for a moment, visibly shocked, before laughing again, perhaps a little shaken this time. "That does sound like a creepy laugh. You should probably stay away from him, Milady."

Sayo forced a giggle and exclaimed, "It's true that boys always act like little kids when they're together." It didn't take someone adept at reading people to see that the conversation needed to be steered away from talk of serial killers.

She knew what was expected of her. All she had to do was occasionally punctuate the conversation with some helpful remark, and no one would notice anything amiss. Milady never really tried to get meaningful conversation out of her when Manon was around. It was clear she liked Manon's company better, and honestly, who wouldn't? If you could overlook the girl's sharp tongue, she was clearly better company than Sayo. She knew how to hold on to a conversation, instead of just propping it up. She was more than a 'good listener.' She was a 'good conversationalist', too.

In the moments when nothing was required of her, Sayo mostly thought of all the things she was not.

"Well, it's not like girls are any better." Manon leaned back on the cushioned chair Milady had provided for her, flicking a non-existent bit of dust off her skirt.

The chat went on like this for a while. Since Krauss-sama and Madam were away for the evening, it was just Milady and Master, out of all the Ushiromiya family, in the house. This essentially meant that Milady had the run of the house, as Master rarely emerged from his study these days. None of the servants would report back to Madam that Milady had been chatting up the girl servants her own age; no one saw the point in it, and no one would be that cruel to Milady or the servants she was friendly with. But Sayo almost wished that Madam was home, since it would have at least cut the conversation short. She didn't want to talk about boys…

Suddenly, Milady's nervous laughter filled the room. "Oh, come on, Shannon! I don't want to have to be the only one talking about this."

Sayo felt her mouth fall open. Her mouth was working, but no words would come out. A hot, hard lump lodged in her throat. Finally, she managed, "I… Well… I don't really… have anyone like that around here."

No, not around. Maybe not at all.

More of Milady Jessica's laughter rose up. "Don't betray me, okay, Shannon? We've gotta get boyfriends together! We promised, didn't we?!"

Sayo remembered promising no such thing.

Manon giggled. Maybe it was Shannon's imagination, but there was something a touch malicious in her giggling. "Well, believe it or not, it's not uncommon at all for girls like Shannon to get a head start and leave all their friends behind."

'Leave all their friends behind?'

Milady Jessica's face darkened. "What?! Shannon! You aren't going out with anyone, are you?!"

Sayo shook her head, wilting under Milady's stare. She wanted to leave the room so badly… "N-no… I'm not."

"Really?" Milady frowned at her.

"Really."

Manon laughed. "You're lying, aren't you, Shannon-chan!" She leaned back in her chair and clapped her hands. "You've got a boyfriend already, don't you?" She smiled slyly. "I can always tell. It's always the quiet ones."

_Die… Either die or leave the room; you're no better than the others, are you?_

At this, Milady launched forward and shook Sayo's shoulders. "How could you?" she cried in mock outrage; Sayo only barely managed to catch the undertone of laughter beneath her shouting. "Confess, confess!" she shouted, shaking Sayo's shoulders all the time.

_Are you thinking of me at all, Battler-san? I trust you _(want to trust you) _but I'm weak. I still need a sign. I'll quit my job; I'll come away with you. All it will take is a word. Please, I'm as determined as I ever will be. There's no reason for you to doubt my faith in you. I will never forget the promise you made to me. Please come for me._

Manon shook her head sharply. "Never trust a promise you make with a guy," she said sourly. "Even if it's all written down, they'll try and find some way out of it. You can't count on them." Was that the voice of experience talking?

Sayo stared at her, astonished and not a little terrified, but Manon didn't seem to know what was in her heart.

Milady shrugged, letting go of Sayo and leaning back on her bed. "Well, I think guys and girls just have different ideas of what's important."

"No, I don't think that's it," Manon demurred. "Girls are dreamers. Guys just do stuff without thinking."

"I guess it's impossible for men and women to ever really understand each other."

Manon snorted. "It's pretty hard, at least. What I've noticed is that girls often think they know exactly what a guy's thinking when they _really don't_. They'll look for hidden meanings in words guys said without meaning anything by it at all. They just get the wrong idea."

"Yeah, I've known girls like that. I could have told them that it was all nonsense, but they insisted on taking every word of it seriously."

"It's a bit sad when a girl gets the wrong idea for no reason."

Milady and Manon tipped their heads back and laughed together. Sayo sank low in her chair, staring down at the ground. They were laughing at her. Maybe they didn't know it, but they were laughing at her. Weren't they?

_You promised, didn't you, Battler-san? You promised that you would come for me, riding on a white horse, like a prince out of a fairytale. All of this must be another one of God's trials. God is testing my faith, the way he allowed the Devil to test Job. That has to be it. I won't listen. I won't care about it. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter at all._

But somehow, she didn't quite manage not to hear Milady say, "I don't ever want to be a girl like that, thinking her heart is linked to a guy's for no reason."

It was getting so hard to breathe.

-0-0-0-

At another interval:

"Never trust a man," Manon said, oddly gloomily. "He'll break your heart, every time."

-0-0-0-

It had been a week since the annual Ushiromiya family conference. Everything was changing, in the two years since Battler had last come to Rokkenjima. Everyone had gotten used to Kyrie-sama and Ange-sama. Sometimes, it was as though Battler and Asumu-sama had never existed. (Sometimes, looking at the odd gleam in Kyrie-sama's eye if someone brought up Asumu-sama accidentally, Sayo wondered if Kyrie-sama didn't _want _everyone to forget about Battler and Asumu-sama. But that was a cruel thought, unworthy of her, so she tried—_tried_—to shelve it.)

No one really talked about Battler where the rest of the family could hear. George-sama had expressed some sentiment of missing him to Sayo, but in the presence of the family, he gave no sign of even remembering him at all. No one did. No one spoke of him, not even Rudolf-sama or Madam, who had been very concerned about him the first family conference after he left the family. It was doubtful whether Maria-sama, young as she was, even remembered Battler at all.

Battler was only spoken of when Sayo broached the subject. George-sama in particular stared very seriously at Sayo and spoke of how Battler was like a bird leaving the nest. It was all very similar to what he had said last year, but with even more conviction. George-sama seemed convinced that he wasn't coming back, and he swayed Milady Jessica to his side. Neither of them believed that Battler was coming back.

"_Well, we know Battler-kun. I'm sure he's adapted to his new life and is enjoying himself. There's no reason to worry."_

"_This is Battler we're talking about, so you can bet he's forgotten all about us and is having a great time."_

What?

That… That was a lie, wasn't it?

"_Yeah, I'll bet he is. And I think that's best for everyone. Thinking for himself, his family, his late mother, Battler-kun decided to find a new life. So I hope he lives that life to the fullest. If he completely forgets about the Ushiromiya family, that's just perfect."_

This… This was a test, wasn't it? Another one of God's tests? God had let the Devil send his demons to torment and tempt her. That had to be it. _The root of love is faith. I will not doubt. I will not lose hope. I will not believe that he has forgotten me._

The worst of it was when George-sama, after saying all of this with such confidence, stared directly at Sayo, clearly expecting her to smile in response and agree with every word he was saying. Shannon could do that. Sayo just sat in the background, and let her. George-sama didn't seem to notice the difference, anyways.

_The root of love is faith._

_The root of love is faith._

_The root of love is faith._

_I never asked him to say anything to me. He said it all himself. Without me saying anything, he promised that he would come back for me. He promised that he would take me away from this life. I never forced him to say it. He promised that himself. The root of love is faith._

She kept having the same dream, night after night.

In this dream, Sayo finally left Rokkenjima to go searching for Battler. It had been so long, and she couldn't bear to wait any longer. When she found him, he wasn't the Battler she had known. He wasn't the same person in his heart as the one who had promised that he would come back for her and take her away from her gray life on Rokkenjima. He had forgotten everything. At first, he didn't even recognize her when she approached him. And then…

And then, he laughed. He laughed at her when she reminded him of the promise he had made to her two years ago.

"_Are you kidding? You really expected me to do that?! 'Come back on a white horse'? Come on; you really took that seriously? Couldn't you tell I was just joking? I never meant to do any of that!"_

"_Never trust a man," _Manon had said. _"He'll break your heart, every time."_

Was that supposed to be the truth? Was she just one of those girls Manon and Milady had laughed about, the ones who took everything a guy said to them too seriously, and got the wrong idea? The one who thought love existed where, in fact, there was none?

Whenever she awoke from this nightmare, whenever she jolted awake and sat up in bed, Sayo's eyes were inexorably drawn to her reflection in the mirror. Her face was tear-stained and red, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. There was her pathetic, miserable face, staring back at her. How she hated mirrors. They only ever told her the truth. This one, holding as it did the image of her tear-soaked face, could only ask her what promise there had been to start with. Did they really make such a promise? Did Battler _really _promise to save her from this empty life? Or had she just read too much into something else he said? Had he said something jokingly, never meant to be a real promise, and had she taken it as something more binding?

Maybe she had just imagined it all.

_The root of love is faith. No matter how many demons come up from Hell to mock me and laugh at my tears, I must not lose faith. How can Battler-san have faith in me if I don't have any faith in him? Trust is not a one-way thing. Both halves of a relationship must be able to trust each other._

_He'll remember me. He will. George-sama must be wrong; Milady and Manon, too. Battler-san hasn't forgotten his promise, and he hasn't forgotten me. God and Battler-san both are testing me. God will not reward me unless I show my faithfulness. And Battler-san wouldn't want a faithless bride, would he? He will come for me. Next year, he'll come…_

That didn't change the fact that she was alone.

Sayo conjured up the intangible second bed that had once been here, for Shannon to sleep on. It was such a comfort, not having to stay alone in this dark, quiet room, being able to believe that when the boards creaked, it was the sound of someone else walking around in the room and not just the lonely sounds of an empty room. It was such a comfort, being able to believe that, if she broke down crying again, there would be someone there to hug her and tell her that everything would be alright.

Beatrice's demon-like friend stopped by occasionally, dropping out of black holes in the ceiling or rising up from holes in the floor. She brought a vase full of flowers from the Golden Land. There were golden roses, and lining the rim of the vase, little forget-me-nots. Everyone always overlooked the forget-me-nots, the pale dashes of blue in an otherwise golden rose garden. But they were always there, peeking out between the roses, waiting to be noticed.

Beatrice herself came, and sat in the chair by Sayo's bed. "I will watch as you sleep, and weave magic to protect you from your nightmares," she said with a grim look on her face. "After all the encouragement I gave you, it's the least I can do."

But when Sayo closed her eyes again, she knew that there was only one person in the room.

* * *

><p>* Let me just make one thing clear. I have nothing against people who get married and decide not to have kids. I myself wouldn't have kids if my life depended on it. But considering the kind of environment Sayo was raised in, you can't really blame her for thinking this way.<p> 


	5. Testing the Water

What I've gathered from seeing 'Confession of the Golden Witch' scans going around on Tumblr is that Kinzo figured out that Sayo was his kid when she accidentally spilled hot soup on her feet and he saw amputation scars when she took her shoes and socks off—he knew that the scars were probably from an operation to remove a sixth toe on each foot, and since Lion presumably had six toes on each foot like him, Kinzo figured that this probably wasn't a coincidence. As far as "ways Kinzo could figure out that Sayo was his kid" go, I like this one. It's something that clearly connects Sayo to Kinzo, something that can't be written off easily. Afterwards, he began showing her greater favor; it's canon, per EP6, that Kinzo taught Shannon/Kanon how to handle guns and target practice, and 'Confession' seems to show this as well. So I thought I would stick my version of the scene in here; I've only seen one panel, and I don't really know the outside context for the scene (such as why Sayo would be serving Kinzo when usually only a very select few are allowed to do so), so I've made some assumptions.

* * *

><p><em>Testing the Water<em>

* * *

><p>Sayo was rarely given an opportunity to impress others with her skill as a servant that was not fraught in some way.<p>

The family conferences were not all they were cracked up to be, especially when Sayo was called away from the cousins' sides to tend to the adults. Eva-sama had latched onto her as someone she could humiliate in front of the family in order to shame Madam. She would ask after the blend and flavor of the tea, likely knowing that only Kawano-san the cook was allowed to taste the tea (and that it would not be polite for Sayo to point that out) and that Sayo probably didn't know the blend. It was the same with the food; only Kawano-san was allowed to taste it, and Eva-sama must have known that, but she would still ask Sayo for an 'honest opinion' on how it tasted. If she put a spoon or a fork or a knife in the wrong place on the table setting, Eva-sama would surely point it out. If even a droplet of tea hit the tablecloth of the floor, Eva-sama would snigger and remark upon it. If Sayo stumbled, she would laugh at her. It was quite clear why Eva-sama had latched onto Sayo in particular: she had decided that it was easiest to prey upon the weakest of the servants instead of mocking Kumasawa-san, whom everyone liked, or attempting to pierce Genji-sama's stalwart exterior.

Family conferences were also a very sad time for Sayo, these days. They reminded her of Battler and the promise he had made to her, what was feeling increasingly like an eternity ago. They reminded her of all her uncertainty, all her fear and doubt.

Serving business associates of Krauss-sama's or the family members when they came in smaller groups throughout the year wasn't any better. Eva-sama took any opportunity that she could to shame Madam, using Sayo as a vehicle for that; it didn't matter that George-sama often tried to deflect attention away from Sayo and her mistakes (It was probably because she didn't deserve his defense that everyone noticed her anyways). During these times, Madam was always breathing down Sayo's neck, waiting for her to make a mistake so that she could scold her. Sayo inevitably became nervous, and as a result of that, she unavoidably made some mistake that, whether large or small, caused Madam to scold her harshly and penalize her in some way, usually by refusing to let her eat for the rest of the day or by being forced to work longer than any of the other servants.

In these moments, when she lied down to sleep with her stomach growling, when she was still cleaning, alone, well after dark, the night shift told not to help her, she felt bitter. Madam had never been anyone's servant! Madam had no idea how difficult it was! Those thoughts were demonic, in a way. She tried to press them down into nothingness, but the more times this happened to Sayo, the less she was able to ignore them.

Now, she had another opportunity to prove herself, and Sayo didn't know if this was the lease or the most fraught of them all. She only had to impress one man, or at the very least not make a fool out of herself in front of him. But what a man he was.

Genji-sama had taken ill. Doctor Nanjo said it had something to do with the change of the seasons from fall into winter; he also seemed to attribute it to male servants not being issued warmer winter uniforms the way female servants were. Either way, Genji-sama was too ill to work. That, Sayo considered rather worrying. She had seen Genji-sama work through colds and through headaches with nary a complaint—his example was to be aspired to. How ill must he be if even he admitted that he needed to rest? Sayo had visited him in his room in the servant quarters this morning, and what she saw did little to reassure her.

"…_Genji-sama? I've brought you breakfast."_

_Genji-sama was, as far as Sayo knew, the only servant of the Ushiromiya family who lived on Rokkenjima full-time. Perhaps that was why he alone was permitted to wear the family crest, the One-Winged Eagle, on his clothes, when even Madam was not (A fact that Eva-sama never let her forget). Supposedly, Genji-sama was a childhood friend of Master's, but Sayo doubted that that would be enough for him to be granted such an honor. However, Sayo was quite sure that Genji-sama's seniority and the fact that he lived on Rokkenjima was why he slept in a room that was nearly as large and as comfortable as the rooms the family slept in. Sometimes, Sayo wished she could have a bed as large and as comfortable-looking as Genji-sama's._

_The man in question was sitting up in bed, looking rather pale and drawn, his eyes bloodshot, but otherwise not very different from how he normally looked. "Thank you, Shannon." His voice was more than a little hoarse. "Just leave it on my desk."_

_Sayo nodded. Genji-sama's breakfast was a simple one: a glass of milk, a bagel with plain cream cheese on it, and some sort of apple pastry with a foreign name that Sayo couldn't pronounce. Kumasawa-san had surprised her, telling her that Genji-sama liked sweet foods and was actually a talented pastry chef himself. It wasn't something Sayo would have expected of him._

"_H-How are you feeling, Genji-sama?" Sayo asked from the doorway, staring anxiously at him. On second glance, he really did look ill. One could look pale and drawn without being sick, but there was something… _frail_ about him. The thick, phlegmy cough that then shook Genji-sama's shoulders did nothing to alleviate her anxiety._

"_I will recover. Just do your best today, Shannon."_

_Sayo smiled. "Yes, Genji-sama."_

Genji-sama being ill was actually a huge problem for the servants, even if it was only him who was sick. The problem was that Genji-sama was the only one Master would allow to serve him. In fact, Genji-sama was the only person on Rokkenjima Master consistently allowed to enter his study. Sayo has once heard a couple of the adult servants, two who had since retired, talking about how when Master's late wife, Shizuka-sama, was still alive, she would stand outside the study fuming, listening to Master and Genji-sama talk while never being allowed to enter herself.

In his present state, Genji-sama could not serve Master in any capacity. At the same time, Master would be deeply angered if his lunch wasn't served to him on time—it was a mercy that Master rarely took breakfast, either with his family or at all. A solution had to be found.

Sayo wasn't sure how, but Doctor Nanjo persuaded Master to allow Kumasawa-san and Sayo to serve him lunch in his study. This was a huge opportunity for Sayo, who had never served Master directly or privately before. But as she pushed the trolley down the hall towards Master's study, she felt as though there were butterflies dancing wildly in her stomach. Master was so short-tempered; what if she didn't bow properly, or spilled something, or couldn't answer a question about the food?

Kumasawa-san seemed to sense Sayo's sudden attack of nerves. She patted Sayo's shoulder and smiled encouragingly at her. "Don't worry, dear. You'll be fine. Master isn't nearly as strict with us servants as Madam is."

Sayo smiled shakily back at her. Madam, upon hearing who would be serving Master lunch, had taken Sayo aside and made quite sure that Sayo understood exactly what she was doing.

"_You are being given a rare privilege, one you do not deserve. You should be grateful that circumstances have conspired to put you in this situation, and you should understand: Ushiromiya Kinzo _is_ the Ushiromiya family. You owe him not only your respect, but your reverence. If you fail in your duties in any way, I _will_ hear of it. Do you understand, Shannon?"_

"_Y-yes, Madam."_

Master had much more elaborate tastes than Genji-sama, as evidenced by his lunch, though then again, Sayo doubted that there was time to put as much effort into the preparation of food meant for servants. There were for appetizers sliced ciabatta bread drizzled with olive oil, a light salad adorned with crumbled feta cheese, bell peppers, cucumbers and black olives, and piping hot fasolada, which, Sayo had made sure to find out, was a Greek soup made with tomatoes and many other vegetables. The entrée was bowtie pasta with basil pesto, and baked lamb in some sort of yogurt mint sauce, along with other spices such as garlic, rosemary, oregano and black pepper. The dessert was baked apples served with hot bourbon bread pudding and vanilla ice cream; that would be sent up later, if Master wished for it. Kawano-san had as usual spared no expense on Master's meal (The rest of the family was eating relatively plainer fare).

The delicious aroma that rose up from beneath the cloche covers only served to remind Sayo of how hungry she was. Except with breakfast, it really wasn't considered proper for the servants to eat before the family. Depending on how long it took to prepare and serve the meal, and how long it took for the family and any guests to eat the meal, Sayo might not eat lunch until two or three in the afternoon, and not eat supper until nine or even ten at night. It was only noon. Sayo's lunchtime was still quite a ways off. She would have gladly eaten all of this right now, if it was her place to do so, but how much of it would Master even eat? He had been known to even send back whole meals untouched, refusing to eat so much as a mouthful, much to Kawano-san's distress. Kawano-san and Genji-sama usually ended up eating the discarded meal themselves.

When they reached the study, Kumasawa-san stepped forwards and knocked on the heavy door. For the first time, Sayo noticed the shape of a scorpion engraved into the doorknob. _I wonder why that's there_. "Master!" Kumasawa-san called through the door. "Shannon and I are here with your dinner."

There was a long moment of silence to follow. Sayo wondered if perhaps Master had changed his mind about having lunch and was torn between feeling sorry for Kawano-san's wasted effort and feeling relieved that she might be spared the possibility of embarrassing herself in front of Master himself. But all too soon, she heard Master's deep, gravelly voice through the wood. "Come in, then."

At that, Kumasawa-san put the key she had borrowed from Genji-sama into the lock and turned it; Sayo head some surprisingly heavy mechanisms click before the door slowly creaked open. Kumasawa-san went in first, Sayo following close behind with the trolley laden down with food.

Sayo had never been in Master's study before. Out of all of the servants, Genji-sama and Kumasawa-san were the only ones permitted to come inside to clean it. Even the family was rarely allowed inside, and Doctor Nanjo was probably the only guest on the island who had _ever_ been allowed inside. Sayo had always wondered what it looked like inside. Renon and Benon had liked to spread rumors that Master performed horrible experiments upon the living inside; Master had such a reputation as an occult inamorato that no one would have entirely put it past him.

But as for Sayo's first impression?

Sayo's first impression was one of wonder; she had ample opportunity to look around the study as Kumasawa-san cleared off Master's very cluttered desk. The book archive in the mansion was a proper library, a large room devoted entirely to books. There were hundreds, possibly of thousands of books in the archive. Master's study didn't have as many books in it as the book archive did, but at the same time, the study gave the archive a good run for his money. There were bookshelves all around, reaching all the way up to the high ceiling, some twenty feet above; the higher shelves were accessible only by use of a rolling ladder attached to the book shelves. The books were of all shapes and sizes—some small, some large, some paperback, some hardback, their spines of all colors possible—but most were large, leather-bound tomes packed tightly into the shelves. Sayo's hands itched to take one of the books down off the shelves and read it. She suspected that she could spend her whole life here, reading, and not finish all the books that were present here.

What she noticed next was the air of neglect around the study. Though Kinzo did occasionally allow Genji-sama or Kumasawa-san to come in and clean, it was apparently not nearly often enough. There were stains in the rugs that sat over the hardwood floors; Sayo wasn't sure what they were, but judging from the reddish color, they might have been wine stains. There was also a noticeable layer of dust over the bookshelves and any other flat surfaces. Sayo's eyebrows shot up momentarily, before she remembered that it wasn't her place to judge Master, but still, she couldn't help but wonder at the fact that Master was willing to spend his days in a place with so much dust.

As she looked around more, Sayo began to realize something else. There was a well-cushioned sofa and a few chairs with matching red and gold-brocaded upholstery sitting opposite it, with a low coffee table in between. When she craned her neck and looked off to the side, she saw a bed large enough for a grown man, and a shower curtain nearby. A door was hanging slightly open; Sayo saw what she was sure was a toilet behind it. _Master's study is practically its own house, _she thought, thunderstruck. _No wonder he can stay in here for days at a time. All he needs is for Genji-sama to bring him food, and he doesn't have to leave at all._

Sayo's observations were cut short when Kumasawa-san returned to the trolley. "Bring the soup, Shannon," she told her, taking the bread and salad out from under the cloche covers and setting them down on the desk in front of Master.

Sayo grimaced as she took the bowl of fasolada from the trolley, watching little wisps of steam rising from the bowl. She had never been good with liquids; anything larger than a teacup that wasn't set firmly on a solid surface ended up spilled on the ground most of the times. There was one time when Sayo was helping Sanon while she mopped the bathrooms on the second floor by carrying around the bucket of soapy water she was mopping with. Sayo would never forget how mad Sanon and Madam were when she accidentally tipped the bucket over and spilled all of the water not only on the bathroom floor but on the bedroom carpeting as well. The only mercy of that situation was that it had been an unoccupied guest bedroom.

_I'll just have to be very careful_, Sayo told herself. _I can do that. Shannon is right here beside me, cheering me on. I'll just have to be careful, and walk slowly. I can do that. I just have to impress one man—one man who could fire me if he wanted, but still, Master is only one man. Eva-sama isn't here to mock me. Madam is not here to scold me at the slightest misstep. Besides, Kumasawa-san told me that Master isn't as strict with us servants as Madam. She wasn't lying to me. Was she? …No… No, of course she wasn't. Kumasawa-san would never lie to me._

_If nothing else, this is good training for being married to Battler-san. _She smiled a little, feeling more confident. _I'll get better and better carrying bowls of soup, and by the time we're married I'll be so good at this that I won't drop or spill anything at all when I'm setting the table. "Wow, Sayo-chan," he'll say. "It all comes so naturally to you."_

Suddenly, Kinzo snorted in amusement. "Well, Shannon?" he asked her dryly. "Are you planning on serving me that soup for lunch or for supper?"

Sayo felt her face flush, as all of her newfound confidence rushed away from her as quickly as it had come. Master was laughing at her. The first words he had ever spoken directly to her, and he was laughing at her. She really was pathetic. "S-sorry, sir."

She made a conscious effort to both speed up and be as careful with the fasolada as she had been when she was walking slowly. Unfortunately, she could do one or the other, but not both. Sayo failed to notice a large bump in the rug until it was too late.

"Ow!" When she tripped, the bowl was knocked out of her hands, scalding hot soup spilling on her fingers and all over her feet and the rug. Sayo whimpered as she looked at her fingers. They were already beginning to turn bright, cherry-red. Her feet felt like they were on fire…

"Oh, dear!" Kumasawa-san exclaimed, rushing to Sayo's side. "Take off your socks, Shannon! I'll go get some cold water and bandages. Master…" She looked back up at Master, her lined brow knit.

Master waved a hand dismissively. "Have the girl sit on the sofa, if you're so worried."

Kumasawa-san patted the back of Sayo's hand, only to draw back when the girl flinched—there were a few red spots there, too. "Just wait here, Shannon; go sit on the sofa for now. I'll be right back," she promised.

Sayo did as she was told, and apart from the clink of silverware on china plates, there was silence.

She had messed up, badly. It was as though Sayo was little again and the four older girls had cornered after some mishap, mocking her and calling her 'Yasu.' Manon never did anything like that but that girl was so two-faced that Sayo was sure she'd be sniggering behind her hand at her once she found out about this.

Genji-sama would be so disappointed in her. Hadn't he told Sayo to do her best? A bowl of spilled soup all over what was probably a _very_ expensive rug was about as far from her 'best' as possible.

Madam would be furious with her. She barely seemed to need a reason to be furious with Sayo, but this was something that even a far gentler person than Madam would have been angry about. To Madam, who had never truly wanted Sayo here, this would be all the proof she needed that Sayo had to leave.

She could lose her job over this. If that happened, Sayo would be sent back to the Fukuin House in disgrace, proving Runon and Renon and Sanon and Benon right when they all said that Sayo didn't belong there, with them. She would be a laughingstock and a black mark of shame on the Fukuin House's reputation, the first child sent to the Ushiromiya family in over ten years to be fired from her post. Worst of all, she would never see Battler again; how would he know to look for her there?

Her hands and feet hurt so much. They stung and screamed with the slightest movement. Sayo's shame and pain made her eyes prickle and burn, her breath catching in her throat. _I mustn't cry. I am still in Master's presence. I'm an embarrassing-enough person without becoming emotional in Master's presence. _But those words couldn't prevent hot, fat tears from dribbling down her cheeks. Sayo wiped furiously at her face with her sleeve, biting her lip so hard that it bled to keep from sobbing.

The clatter of metal on metal seemed unnaturally loud. Sayo's head snapped up, to see Master rooting through the trolley, presumably looking for the entrée—the appetizers, especially minus the fasolada, were small enough that he could presumably get through them in a short amount of time. At the very moment that he found the pasta and the lamb, though she wished she hadn't, Sayo managed to catch his gaze. She averted her eyes, but instead, she found her gaze drawn inexorably to the overturned bowl still sitting on the rug, the vegetables splattered on top, and an unmistakable red stain beginning to set in—after that, her gaze was drawn to the little red trail, telltale marks of where her feet had touched the rug while walking towards the sofa. "I-I'm very sorry," she mumbled.

"You know, I never liked that rug," Master remarked, in an astonishingly casual tone of voice. Sayo stared at him, amazed and apprehensive at the same time. She had never heard Master speak so casually before. "It was a wedding gift from my wife's family," he explained, as he took the entrée back to the desk and began to eat. "I suspect it was meant to mock the way my predecessors made their fortune. And now it has met its end in the only possible appropriate way."

Sayo had no idea what to say to this. She stared, huge-eyed, at Master, shrinking into the back of the sofa as she did so. _What is this about?_

"Don't give me that dejected face," he told her sardonically. "If you think it's going to make me feel sorry for you, you're wrong. Even with all the magic in the world, you can't undo anything you've done. You're better off if you just accept that now."

Sayo nodded. Master didn't know that her most cherished dream was teetering on the edge of a precipice, even as he spoke. How could he know? There was no one Sayo could confide in. Even if she could tell him, a man like him would undoubtedly find her dreams pitifully small. "I—"

Just then, Kumasawa-san returned with a basin full of water, a roll of bandages wrapped around her arm and several cloths in hand. She smiled shakily at Sayo. "Now, just hold very still, Shannon. I'll wash your feet first, alright?"

"Al-alright, Kumasawa-san."

Sayo would be lying if she said she didn't feel a little better when Kumasawa-san gently rubbed her feet down. The cloths, little towels she had likely gotten from the servants' station on the third floor, were soft instead of being abrasive like terrycloth, and the water was very cold. When her burned skin was wetted down and cleaned of fasolada, the pain dissipated for a moment, her skin numbing. Sayo almost couldn't believe Kumasawa-san when she murmured that Sayo had only been scalded; it had hurt so much.

While Kumasawa-san was washing Sayo's feet clean of fasolada and checking to see how bad the burns—or scalds, rather—were, Master must have grown curious, because he set his meal aside and wandered over to where Sayo and Kumasawa-san were. He watched the goings-on with bemusement, but when his gaze reached Sayo's scalded feet, he began looking at her very oddly indeed. Master's stare was so intent and intense that Sayo began to feel as though her entire body had been scalded instead of just her feet and her fingers. She looked away from him, hoping he would lose interest and go back to his lunch.

"Shannon." Sayo forced herself to meet Master's gaze. His stare had, if anything, become even more disconcerting; there was almost something _manic_ about the gleam in his eyes. "What are those marks on the sides of your feet?"

Sayo stared down at her feet, red and scalded (but now clean of fasolada, at least) as they were. It took her a moment to realize that Master wasn't talking about the scald marks; perhaps if she was less nervous, she would have realized right away, but oh well. He was, instead, referring to the marks on the sides of her feet, the small ridges of tough flesh near the base of her small toes. "I… They're birth marks, sir," she mumbled. "That was what the Director of the Fukuin House told me." And to be honest, Sayo hadn't thought much about them since then. It was just something about her body, something she couldn't change, just like everything else.

Master made an odd noise in the back of his throat. "Are you sure that's what they are?"

Sayo opened her mouth to speak, but surprisingly, Kumasawa-san cut her off. "I see no reason why they should be anything other than what Shannon says they are, Master." Sayo gaped at her, shocked. She had never heard Kumasawa-san speak so hostilely before, let alone to a member of the Ushiromiya family.

Sayo turned her gaze on master apprehensively, not only for her own sake, but for Kumasawa-san's as well. Who knew what Master would do, when spoken to in such a way? What had possessed Kumasawa-san to talk like that?

There was a tense moment when Master and Kumasawa-san stared intently at one another, the former seeming thoughtful and the later still radiating hostility. To Sayo's great amazement (and no small concern), it was Master who looked away first. "Very well. Shannon, once your burns—" he must not have heard Kumasawa-san earlier "—are treated, you may leave."

Sayo nodded quickly. "Yes, sir!" She felt relief and shame commingle in her stomach in her stomach; the result was faintly nauseating.

"And Kumasawa, you stay here and clean up the mess."

Kumasawa-san frowned slightly, but only said, quietly, "If that's what you want."

As Sayo left the study and started to head for the servants' staircase, she didn't know whether to feel embarrassed that Kumasawa-san had to try to clean up her mess, or relieved that she didn't have to deal with Master looking at her so strangely anymore.

-0-0-0-

"Hey, Shannon, I hear you spilled my fasolada."

Sometimes, Sayo wished she wasn't such a slave to routine. She wasn't even hungry anymore, not after that debacle in Master's study, so there was no point in coming to the kitchen. She should have just waited in the break room until her lunch break was over. And yet, she had come to the kitchen anyways, her feet practically moving of their own accord.

There was another reason she shouldn't have come to the kitchen.

Sayo couldn't remember ever having had a personal conversation with Kawano-san. He had given her and the other servants food often enough—he cooked their meals as well as the family's. But Kawano-san had never been very interested in Sayo, or indeed in anything that went on outside of the kitchen or the dining hall.

Kawano-san was a physically unimpressive man. He was fairly short (much shorter than Master or Krauss-sama or Genji-sama, though still taller than the likes of Sayo), in his left fifties, with short-cropped gray hair, and a face that seemed permanently set in an expression of irritation, even when he was smiling at the family. When Sayo thought of him, she thought that he would probably grow angry with her easily, so she endeavored to stay out of his way and not trouble him as much as possible. However, it seemed like she couldn't even manage that.

Leaning against the countertop, his arms folded across his chest, Kawano-san raised an eyebrow at her. "Well?"

Sayo felt her cheeks burning. "I'm very sorry," she mumbled.

He snorted. "Typical. I slave over the pot all morning, meanwhile doing a thousand different things at once, and my beautiful soup ends up on the floor before Master can even taste it."

_It's not my fault!_ The anger of that thought was nothing short of ugly, and, to be honest, quite childish. Even in Sayo's head it had a grating whine to it. If she had ever said it aloud, anyone would tell her that she was being pathetic. Anyone would tell her that.

In a flurry of golden butterflies, Beatrice materialized at Kawano-san's side. She spared a disdainful glance for him, flicking a lock of gleaming white hair behind her shoulder. Then, Beatrice looked at Sayo and smiled slyly. "I think he needs to be taught a lesson, don't you?"

"Maybe," Sayo whispered.

"What was that?"

With a start, Sayo remembered herself. Her face felt like it really was on fire now. She hadn't meant to say anything out loud. "N-nothing."

"…Right." Kawano-san was still eyeing her oddly; Sayo wished she could tell him to stop. "…Your burns aren't bad, are they?" he asked her abruptly.

The idea of Kawano-san (of anyone she hadn't made herself) being concerned about her was another shock in a day full of shocks. "I… Well, I…" Sayo stammered. _In this a trick? _"Kumasawa-san says I was only scalded," she managed finally.

Kawano-san grimaced. "So I noticed."

Yes, the bandages on Sayo's hands and feet should have been quite conspicuous, especially considering that her socks were probably in the laundry by now. Sayo needed to go back to her room before her lunch break was up; Madam wouldn't be pleased if she saw her out of uniform.

"Yeah, I've ended up like that before," Kawano-san went on. "You've got your sleeves rolled up, you reach across the pot and you've forgotten all about the steam. Yeah, I've been there. Not fun."

Sayo didn't respond, afraid that if she did, he'd go back to mocking her.

"And if it's any consolation, lunch didn't go so great down here, either."

That piqued Sayo's curiosity, prompting her against her better judgment to speak. "How so?"

"Hah! Typical day, really," Kawano-san said bitterly. "You know the type."

Sayo nodded silently. She slipped back into the more familiar (though not necessarily more comfortable) role of the listener. Once again, all she had to do was listen. No one expected her to participate. No one wanted her to participate.

"Krauss-sama's the only one who ever actually _compliments_ my food when the rest of the family isn't breathing down their necks. Half the time Jessica-sama just picks at it; no appreciation at all, and she hasn't' even got the honesty to admit she doesn't want any. Madam's gotta be the worst, though. Spoiled princess thinks it takes five minutes to make this stuff, thinks she can ask me to make it again as many times as she likes if it doesn't suit her." Sayo squirmed a bit to hear Madam referred to as a 'spoiled princess', but said nothing.

"Well, she pulled that shit—" Sayo squirmed once more "—again today. You know the quiche I made?" She nodded. Kawano-san squirmed darkly. "_Somebody_ thought it had too much onion—Madam had to pick today of all days to actually care enough to taste the food before I send it out—and made me make it again. So I did; you know it's no use arguing with her." Sayo certainly didn't know anyone else among the servants who would argue with Madam on a matter that wasn't life and death. "Only _this_ time, she thought there was too much hot sauce, she says I'm gonna have to make it again.

"One problem; there wasn't enough crab left to make the quiche again. And _then_…" Kawano-san's face became extremely red. "…_Then_, the spoiled princess has the fucking nerve to get mad at _me_! It was all I could do not to tell her that if she wants fucking gourmet for breakfast, lunch and dinner, she needs to expect ingredient shortages, and also she's gonna have to cook it herself; I like having a job too much to actually say that. So I sent out the second quiche, and God did she bitch about it, but she let me serve it. And guess what _we're _having for lunch and dinner?"

"Quiche?"

Kawano-san pointed her finger at her and nodded. "Got it in one. Joke's on Madam, too; first one tasted better. Speaking of, do you want any quiche, Shannon?"

Sayo shook her head, trying to edge out of the room. "Oh, no thank you. I don't really have much of an appetite today, I'm afraid," she said quickly, before Kawano-san could accuse her of not wanting to try it.

"Well, I hope you have an appetite for _this_, at least." Kawano-san reached behind him and pulled out a glass bowl filled with vanilla ice cream, bread pudding and baked apples.

"But that's—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Master called and said to give it to you. Old man must've felt sorry for you, or something."

Sayo eyed the bowl warily. She didn't know what the penalty for eating food meant for the family was, but she suspected that Madam considered it a cardinal sin, especially where Master's food was concerned. Though she knew that accusing Kawano-san of lying would not go over well, Sayo couldn't just accept this at face value. "Are you sure that's what Master said?" she asked skeptically.

Kawano-san shrugged. "You could hardly mistake him." He thrust the bowl at her. "Look, if Master's not gonna eat it, _someone's _got to. May as well be you, if that's what he wants."

At last, Sayo accepted the bowl from him, though she still thought the whole thing a dubious affair. The older girls had never tried to get her in trouble by telling her she could eat something she really couldn't, but probably only because that would have reflected badly on them. It would reflect badly on Kawano-san too, but he didn't seem to care as much about the family's good opinion.

He was looking at her intently. Sayo sat down at the island with Kawano-san still staring at her. As she dipped the spoon into the bread pudding, Sayo wished she had enough of a spine to refuse. It would be the low point of an already horrible day if Kawano-san turned out to be playing a trick on her. "I would certainly need to teach him a lesson then," Beatrice agreed.

_It… It's good._

Sayo had never had bread pudding before. Apples were one of the many fruits handed out to the children of the Fukuin House as treats, and Sayo had always been given an ice cream sandwich on her birthday, same as the rest, but she wasn't used to rich, exotic foods. They were not for the likes of her, not while she worked for the Ushiromiya family as their servant.

The bread pudding was rich and dense; like the baked apples, it had a distinct taste of cinnamon. The contrast of the warm apples and bread pudding with the vanilla ice cream was a pleasant one, even on a chilly day such as this when the house was drafty and Sayo spent much of her workday wishing she could huddle by a space heater.

But food like this wasn't for the likes of her, so when she finished, she thanked Kawano-san and told herself not to wish for any more.

-0-0-0-

Over the next few days, Sayo went through her workday on tenterhooks, waiting for the moment when Madam would call her aside to harangue her for her accident in Master's study. After all, Madam saw the dignity of the head of the Ushiromiya family as inviolate. Anything that tainted the head's dignity, even by association alone, had to be expunged. But though Sayo imagined that Madam was glaring rather more darkly at her than before, none of the punishment she'd feared ever came.

-0-0-0-

Sayo was aware that Master liked to take walks on the mansion grounds and beyond. Renon used to joke that he would jump from the window of his study at midnight and fly around the island conducting obscene rituals to resurrect the Witch, Beatrice. Everyone did at least agree that Master was fond of his late night and early morning walks, that he had stepped out at these late hours to avoid running into anyone else, and just what he was doing out there was probably suspect.

More seriously, there was a simple protocol that a servant was to observe if they came upon Master during one of his rambling walks. They were to bow low, say "Good afternoon" or "Good morning", and not say anything more unless Master addressed them. It was a simple rule, simple enough that even Sayo could follow it without any trouble. She had had to do so maybe three times in her tenure as a servant of the Ushiromiya family—Master was quite determined to avoid everyone else when he set out from the mansion. Never before had Master so much as acknowledged her presence.

Today, however, was different. While working in the rose garden, shivering against the cold, Sayo spied Master approaching her, flanked by Kumasawa-san and Genji-sama, the latter of whom carried a long, rectangular black case in his arms. Sayo dipped in a bow, but was barely able to open her mouth before Master instructed her to follow them.

"Genji-sama, Kumasawa-san, where are we going?" Sayo whispered as they followed Master out of the rose garden at a respectful distance behind.

To her deep consternation, neither one of them answered her. Kumasawa-san only shook her head at her, and Genji-sama didn't even acknowledge that he had heard her. Sayo wrung her apron in her hands, trying to ignore the churning in her stomach. She hoped that this wasn't about the soup she had spilled last week (At least she had finally been able to take her bandages off, so there wasn't a physical reminder of her accident). In retrospect, Master had not seemed terribly angry about it. If he wanted to take her to task over it and punish her, he would have called her into his study instead of bidding her follow him into… the woods? And surely he would have done so before now. Still, the utter lack of anything resembling an explanation put her on edge.

Sayo's initial impression proved correct. The four of them strayed from the well-manicured lawn of the mansion grounds and started down a narrow, winding path into the forest. Sayo stared in wonder at her surroundings, regularly having to duck and dance out of the way of branches to keep from being scratched or ending up with her clothes caught on briars or tree limbs.

In the eyes of most, a forest was just a forest, even if it was a wild, uncultivated forest like this one. Even finding a path they had never seen before wouldn't have been all that exciting. But no one who had ever lived or worked (or both) on Rokkenjima could claim to be indifferent to the island's forest. Two generations of the family and several work-generations of servants had been brought up on tales of the Witch who haunted the forest and would curse anyone foolish enough to disrespect her name or violate her domain. There was always the story of the servant who had fallen from the cliffs just beyond the boundary of the forest and died; rumors abounded that she had disrespected the Witch of the Forest.

Even Sayo couldn't be indifferent to the forest. It was true that she had adopted the mantle of the Witch, Beatrice; Beatrice was a character Sayo played. (Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of white; in her ear, she heard a whispery voice say, "Don't discount me just yet.") She was not the real Witch, as much as it galled her to admit as much (And as much as she questioned just what 'made' a 'real' Witch). As such, Sayo didn't know if the idea of there being a real spirit-Witch living in the forest elated or terrified her. How would such a person react to Sayo's use of her name?

(She thought it must have been a very lonely sort of existence.)

Whether or not there was really a spirit-Witch living in the forest, Sayo never saw her. Master led the three servants to a sunlit clearing, frost gleaming on dead leaves lying in the shade. Sayo looked around and blinked, surprised, when she saw a brightly-colored red, yellow and white bull's-eye tacked onto a tree.

Genji-sama walked to Master's side and held the case out to him. "Thank you, my friend," Master said, actually smiling briefly at Genji-sama. Sayo stiffened when she saw what was inside the case.

A gun.

"Master likes to take target practice on crisp mornings like this," Kumasawa-san explained.

"Then why are we…"

"Master also likes to have an audience when he takes target practice."

"Of course." Master laughed loudly and Sayo jumped; she promptly slid partially behind Kumasawa-san. "I know no one who doesn't prefer to have onlookers in such a competitive pursuit."

"Hmm."

Genji-sama stepped back, and Sayo stepped out from behind Kumasawa-san to stand between them; she supposed that there was no point in trying to hide. If Master wanted an audience while he practiced his aim, Sayo supposed that that was something even she could do without too much trouble.

Sayo flinched when Master fired the gun. Was gunfire really so loud? It was never this loud in movies with guns in them, and a lot of the mystery novels she had read behaved as though someone could shoot someone in one part of a house without anyone else in the same house hearing. Sayo did remember a few books where the hero heard gunfire and went running, but not many. Master fired the gun again and Sayo flinched once more, having to fight with herself to keep from covering her ears. She had never been fond of loud noises; even thunder bothered if it was too unexpected.

Master finally stopped after he had fired six rounds into the target, and apparently needed to reload the gun; Sayo's ears were ringing. Sayo craned her head around him as he loaded more bullets into the gun, and her eyes widened slightly. All of the holes in the target were either in the circle in the middle of the target, or in the ring closest to it. _Wow, Master's a really good shot_.

Genji-sama and Kumasawa-san clapped politely, Sayo hastily following their lead. "That's incredible," she murmured, still directing her gaze at the target.

A surprisingly soft laugh drew her attention back to Master. "Would you like to learn how, then?" he asked, holding the gun towards her.

Sayo threw her hands up. "What?! Oh, no, I couldn't, I—"

Kumasawa-san nudged her gently. "Master never lets anyone but Genji-san handle his guns, Shannon. Not even Krauss-sama or the rest of his family are allowed to touch them." She was smiling, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, which were dark and even a little anxious. "It's a great honor."

Sayo bit her lip. "Y-yes, then. Thank you, sir." It really wouldn't do for her to anger Master. If he wanted to show her favor like this, she was no one to refuse. But still, _why_?

"Now, Shannon, are you right- or left-handed?" Master asked once Sayo was standing next to him.

"Right-handed, Master."

"Oh? That's good. I suspect it would be more difficult for me to teach you how to hold this correctly if you were left-handed. This is a pump-action shotgun, Shannon—a sawed-off Winchester 1897 model."

"Umm, sir? What's a pump-action shotgun? And what do you mean by 'sawed-off'?"

None of the novels Sayo read ever went into all that much detail about guns. Sayo knew the difference between a handgun and a shotgun and a rifle, and knew a little bit about different models. A Winchester model would be connected to that woman who had lived in America. She had thought that ghosts had taken the lives of her husband and child as revenge for their own deaths at the hand of the guns the former had made, and had constructed a sprawling house with countless winding hallways and fake staircases and doors that led to nowhere in order to avoid the same fate. (Sayo both enjoyed the tale and thought it tragic. She assigned the former trait to Beatrice, and the latter to Shannon.) That was the most she knew about Winchester guns.

Far from being irritated with her questions, Master nodded mildly. "Good, you show curiosity. A pump-action shotgun is a sort of shotgun that has a handgrip that can be pumped back and forth to eject a spent round of ammunition and load a fresh one. A sawed-off shotgun has had its barrel shortened, and sometimes the stock—" he patted the butt of the gun "—will be gone too."

He pressed the gun into her hands. "Put your left hand under the barrel; you'll fire the gun with your right. Don't clench the shotgun," he counseled her, and Sayo relaxed her grip on the gun. _Please forgive me, but I don't think I can relax holding this thing_. "Now, put the gun up against your shoulder, tight. There will be a recoil when you fire the gun; if you don't have it flush against your shoulder, it will bounce, and that will hurt a great deal."

"O-okay. Now what?"

"Your body should be turned towards the target. Position your feet so that they're about as far apart from each other as the width of your shoulders."

"Okay."

"Aim."

"Okay."

"Now fire."

For some reason, the roar of gunfire wasn't quite as piercing or startling when Sayo herself was the one firing the gun. Perhaps it was because she was the one firing the gun and she was the one controlling when the roar would come. It… Sayo paused. It felt like it had when she had used 'magic' for the first time and took Berune's key, with electricity crackling in her veins and the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck standing on end. Practically speaking, firing a gun was nothing like using magic, but she was blessed with the same sense of _power_. Sayo would have been lying if she said she did not enjoy it. She was only shocked by how _much_ she enjoyed it.

However, any feelings of enjoyment or satisfaction left her quite abruptly when she saw where the bullet she fired had landed. It had only hit the outermost ring on the target.

_That's… wonderful. I can't even shoot a gun all that well._

Master clapped her on the shoulder. "Don't get discouraged, Shannon," he told her encouragingly. "You've done much better than I did my first time already. When I first started at this it took me more than a week of practice before I could even land a blow on the target itself. Try again."

"Yes, sir."

Master moved away from her; out of the corner of her eye, Sayo saw him go over to Genji-sama. She lifted the gun again, running all of Master's instructions through her head. This time, when she fired, the bullet was on the line between the outermost ring and the second ring from the edge of the target. The next time she fired, the result was much the same.

Three more times Sayo fired the shotgun, before she ran out of ammunition. The best she managed was to hit the third ring from the edge of the target, but it seemed a bit more respectable than the first time she had fired.

Sayo wheeled around on the balls of her feet. "Did you see how…" She trailed off.

Kumasawa-san was sitting on a log, watching Master and Genji-sama. Master was chuckling under his breath about something. Genji-sama stood very stiffly, his face strained and set. The air around them felt charged.

As one, the three of them turned their eyes on her. Sayo clenched the gun in her hands, careful to keep the barrel pointed away from her and them. She paused, unsure of what to say in the face of this. It was Master who broke the silence, peering over her head at the target. "Ah, very good. If you wish, we shall return here next week. You'll need more practice if you want to improve your aim."

"Oh… Thank you, sir. I… think I would like that."

Sayo pushed all questions of just why Master was showing her favor like this (something she would eventually come to regret), and smiled brightly at him.


	6. Poisoned Pawn

_Poisoned Pawn_

* * *

><p>The weather was starting to warm, at last. Frost could no longer be spotted sparkling on the ground or the windowpanes in the morning. Little pink rosebuds had appeared on the rose bushes; Sayo and Manon had on more than one occasion been called upon to pull up weeds sprouting between the bushes.<p>

Sayo confessed herself relieved at this change. When the cold spells of autumn first came, summer's withering heat had usually lingered for so long that she welcomed the cold—however, that only lasted for a few weeks. As winter set in, she remembered how, even though the female servants had winter uniforms they could wear, working outside or even in the drafty hallways was far from pleasant. The servants' waiting room had a space heater in it, but that only made things worse, in a way; it was much more difficult to go back to the cold after she had spent a few minutes warming her hands.

There was also the fact that Master now called upon Sayo to attend to him every time he chose to take target practice, and was himself allowing Sayo to handle and use his guns. Though she knew that this wasn't really proper, Sayo had in surprisingly short order grown to like learning how to shoot with Master's Winchesters. Master treated her very differently from how he had treated the other girls from the Fukuin House—much more patiently and far less distantly. It was a little disconcerting…

That said, though Sayo enjoyed target practice as a diversion from some of her more strenuous duties, she still felt the cold when she went out into the deep forest with Master and Genji-sama and sometimes Kumasawa-san as well. If the wind no longer had a bite to it and the sun provided more than a weak, watery warmth, Sayo was grateful for that. It was actually quite a warm day today.

Rosa-sama and Maria-sama had arrived on Rokkenjima early this morning, the latter rather irritated at having to get up so early and the former worryingly angry about Maria-sama's protests. If she could, Sayo would have pointed out that such a young girl as Maria-sama would not enjoy getting up early on a weekend morning under any circumstances, but it was not for her to question Rosa-sama's reactions to her daughter's behavior. Nonetheless, Sayo found herself clenching her teeth as she listened to Rosa-sama harshly scold Maria-sama and grasp the little girl's arm so tightly that she whimpered.

_Isn't it normal for a little girl to be tired and irritable if she has to get up before dawn? If Rosa-sama wishes to scold her for whining, that's her own business, but doesn't she understand why Maria-sama is acting that way? Can't she feel some sympathy for her?_

Sayo had no right to involve herself in the affairs of the Ushiromiya family. She was their servant, and did not stand on an equal footing with them. And yet she found that her anger with Rosa-sama and her pity for Maria-sama still lingered.

But Rosa-sama wasn't tense and short-tempered simply because of Maria-sama's behavior. She had come to Rokkenjima to speak with Master. Sayo didn't really know why, but she could guess—she had heard Krauss-sama mocking Rosa-sama's floundering business enough at the last family conference. She had thought he looked a bit smug when Rosa-sama first called to set up the visit. It really wasn't her place to judge either of them, though. Even if she _was_ finding it increasingly difficult not to look askance at the way Master's children treated each other. It was not her place to judge them. It was not her place.

"Shannon? Manon? The tea's ready."

At that, the two girls traipsed into the kitchen, where Kumasawa-san and Kawano-san were waiting. The latter was putting the finishing touches on the scones due to be sent up to Master, Madam, Krauss-sama and Rosa-sama in Master's study. There were two serving carts out; one bore black tea, and the other bore milk tea with a pitcher of ice cubes.

"Manon, you'll take the black tea and scones up to Master's study," Kumasawa-san said, patting the cart with the black tea on it." Kawano-san deposited the tray of scones on top of that cart and rubbed at his eyes blearily. "And Shannon, you'll take the milk tea out to Maria-chan."

At that, a loud thump reverberated far overhead. Manon glanced anxiously up at the ceiling, her brown eyes wide, and hissed "Lucky!" at Sayo.

Sayo, for her part, ignored her.

It really was much more pleasant outside than it had been during winter; in comparison to the stale air inside of the mansion, it was doubly pleasant. The wind was blowing high above, the puffy white clouds swimming lazily against a backdrop of turquoise. If Sayo's back, clad in black as it was, felt a little uncomfortable having the sun shine down upon it, she could ignore that. At least her fingers didn't feel as though they'd come off from the cold.

Maria-sama was sitting alone under the arbor; Milady Jessica had too much homework to do to keep her company today. Sayo felt pity sting her heart when she saw the young girl just sitting there, with no one to talk to or play with. She wondered if Maria-sama was still shaken over the way her mother had treated her earlier this morning.

You know… Looking at Maria-sama sitting there by herself, with no one beside her… It was almost like Sayo was looking at herself, as she had been at that age.

As she drew closer, Sayo realized that Maria-sama was completely absorbed with coloring in a blank coloring book. Her crayons, all brightly-colored, were scattered about the table under the arbor. Also present were several small ceramic rabbits, all of them holding and playing musical instruments—a flute, a violin, a French horn and a pair of cymbals. Sayo had never had toys like these—the younger children of the Fukuin House had a communal toy chest, and ceramic toys were considered too fragile in such a situation—and she stared at them, interested, wondering how one played with such toys. She was surprised that Maria-sama took such fragile toys with her when she traveled. Maria-sama was impressively careful with her toys.

"Maria-sama? I've brought you some tea."

The little girl's head snapped up so abruptly that Sayo recognized that Maria-sama hadn't even heard her coming at all. She smiled apologetically, but before Sayo could repeat herself, Maria-sama exclaimed, "Oh, thanks! I'm really thirsty."

Sayo bit back a sigh of relief. One of the adults wouldn't have responded nearly so positively to her sneaking up on them. She took a teacup and saucer from the set, dropped two ice cubes into the cup and poured the milk tea over it.

Maria-sama took a large gulp from her teacup. "Mmm, it's really tasty!"

"Why, thank you, Maria-sama."

Sayo leaned over Maria-sama's shoulder and peered curiously down at her coloring book. When she saw what it was that Maria-sama was drawing, she raised an eyebrow, eyes widening. The drawings were rather crude, as was only natural for such a small child's drawings, but the content was unmistakable. The backdrop was that of a fantastical scene, with candy falling through the airs and what might have been dragons flying about. The subject was a crudely drawn woman, wearing a long black robe and a tall black hat. A witch.

"Ahh… Are you interested in witches, Maria-sama?" Sayo asked her, trying desperately to keep her voice light.

Maria-sama's head bobbed enthusiastically. "That's right! I'd love to meet another Witch!"

_You… want to meet a Witch? _

'_Another' Witch?_

_You consider yourself a Witch?_

Never had Sayo contemplated revealing to another her fantasy of being the Witch, Beatrice. She knew the sort of reaction that she would get. At best, she would be laughed at derisively—surely she would be thought pathetic. At worst, the one she confided in would think her insane, and would tell the world as much. What little connection to others Sayo possessed would be lost to her, and she would be like a doll imprisoned beneath a bell jar—aware of the world outside, but unable to interact with it.

(Sometimes, she already felt like that.)

It was just her world, a world no other could see or touch. It was just her world, held tight and close to her own heart, spilling over only in her old pranks. Under the eyes of another, Sayo knew that her world would crumble and burn into nothing. She was loath to share any of it, knowing that would spell destruction.

But here was a girl who proclaimed herself a Witch, and wished to meet another like her. She didn't laugh or scoff at the very idea of a Witch. She imagined herself as one and drew pictures of them. Her eyes lit up at the very mention of a Witch. Here was a lonely girl, with no one beside her, whose mother seemed barely able to tolerate her, who wanted to meet a Witch, and escape the confines of her small, stifling life.

Sayo would not be expected back in the mansion for some time; the general protocol to be followed here was to remain outside and see to Maria-sama's needs. No one would think it strange if she did not come back for ten or fifteen minutes more.

She strode over to the chair opposite Maria-sama's, abandoning her normal meek posture for straight shoulders and an upturned head. Sayo sat down at the table, resting her arms on the armrests of the cast-iron chair and stared directly into Maria-sama's eyes. She smiled enigmatically; the smile felt strange on her lips. "You want to meet a Witch, eh, Maria?" Stranger still was the idea of addressing Maria-sama without honorifics, and she knew that she could get in trouble if Maria-sama didn't believe her to be who she said and carried back tales of Shannon calling her by her given name alone, but it was too late to stop now. Her heart began to pound.

Maria-sama stared at her uncertainly, putting her crayon down and drawing back a little in her chair. "Who… Who are you?" she asked, regarding Sayo with uncomprehending blue eyes.

Sayo smiled again, the smirking smile feeling slightly more natural this time around. She imagined her body and clothing changing. Her limbs stretched and her torso lengthened and broadened, becoming the body of a woman, rather than that of a young girl with a puny, unattractive body. Her eyes brightened, the gray leeched out until they became a bright, unnaturally shining blue. Her hair turned from brown to glossy white, becoming fuller and shinier and maybe a few inches longer. The drab uniform of a maid of the Ushiromiya family was replaced with a flowing white sleeveless dress. Her delicate hands were clad in white gloves. Pearls glistened in her hair.

"Why, who else could I be? I am Beatrice, the Golden Witch, ruler of Rokkenjima's night. You say you wish to meet with me, and yet you would ask for my name?"

For a third time, Beatrice smiled at Maria, though it was a kinder smile than what had gone before. She didn't expect a young human child to understand right away that a Witch had come among her, even if that child had been wishing for such an occurrence with an earnest heart. It was exceedingly rare for her to appear before humans at all—such a strain it was. Up until now, Shannon was the only one she had blessed in such a way. Beatrice hoped that Maria would recognize the honor for what it was.

Young Maria continued to look at Beatrice uncertainly. "Are you really a Witch?" She looked Beatrice up and down carefully. "How can you be here?"

Beatrice snorted. She waved her hand through the air. "It would be impossible for me to appear before you in my own form. My spirit is weakened in captivity and the sun would burn it away; it would be weeks in the dark forest before I could assume my form again. There is also—" Beatrice pointed a finger at Maria "—the matter of the anti-magic toxin in your mouth and eyes. That would burn me far worse than sunlight ever could. But it is no matter for me to possess the unsuspecting. I saw your interest and wished to speak with you. Is that so strange?"

This seemed to satisfy Maria somewhat, as she nodded. "…What do you mean by cap-…" She paused, frowning. "…Cap-tivity?" she asked, sounding the word out slowly. It seemed that the word was beyond her vocabulary.

"I mean that I am unable to leave this island." Beatrice smiled bitterly. "It is beyond my power at this time."

"Did someone bind you here with a magic circle?" Maria was full of questions, it seemed; unusual for a human, even a child. But questions Beatrice didn't have an answer for were troublesome.

"A what?" Beatrice asked sharply.

The atmosphere around Maria changed. Where before Beatrice could see the wonder radiating off of the little girl, that seemed to have cooled somewhat, and had been replaced by something very close to condescension. Imagine it, a human child, condescending of a centuries-old Witch! Beatrice leaned back in her chair, staring down her nose at Maria. Let the child speak.

Maria, by contrast, straightened in her chair. Her small hands went to smooth down her skirt, a child mimicking a more adult gesture. "A magic circle is a Witch's tool. It can be used to summon contracted demons or to bind spiritual beings to the earth," she said authoritatively, no longer sounding like a small girl who played with crayons and ceramic rabbits and tripped over four-syllable words. Maria's eyes shone with a bright, feverish light. Beatrice knew that light well—it was the light of the passionate. The change was rather startling.

Even with this clarification, Beatrice could not honestly say that she had ever heard of the magic circles that Maria spoke of. However, she was loath to expose her ignorance in front of a child. "My imprisonment on this island has diminished my power and left me very weak," Beatrice admitted reluctantly. "It has also left my memories of my life before coming here quite faint, little more than a distant dream. My knowledge is not what it once was."

On Maria's face there was still the dubious expression that had earlier marked it, but curiosity entered again into her demeanor. "Who bound you, Beatrice?"

The concern in the girl's voice was touching, but it was of little use to Beatrice, who merely shrugged, her palms flat and facing upward. "Who can say? It is the shrine that _keeps_ me bound, nowadays, but long ago, some human sorcerer must have gotten it in his head to do thusly to me. You seem quite interested in magic, Maria," Beatrice put forth probingly.

"That's because Maria is a Witch," she replied promptly, "and a child of the Holy Spirit. Maria was made by God; she's already a child of magic."

Here was more that, sorry to say, Beatrice did not understand. "Oh? How did you come to know this?"

The atmosphere around Maria shifted once more. The girl squirmed in her seat; her hand shot out to grab the ceramic rabbit closest to her and cradle it against her chest. "…Maria doesn't have a Papa and a Mama," she murmured, her eyes slightly downcast as though embarrassed. Perhaps she was embarrassed; that wasn't the sort of thing humans like to admit to. "…Maria only has a Mama.

"The other kids at school tease me because I don't have a Papa. I tried to ask Mama who my Papa is, but she wouldn't say, and got angry at me.

"One day, a Christian priest came to read from the Bible for our class. That was when Maria found out that she was a child of the Holy Spirit, because the Virgin Maria gave birth to a child without a Papa too, through the power of God." She smiled suddenly. It was the innocent smile of a child who had found the answer to a question that had long troubled her. "So it's okay that Maria doesn't have a Papa, because Maria's a child of the Holy Spirit."

Any irritation Beatrice felt with Maria for looking down upon her melted away, replaced by pity. She had lurked in the deep shadows of the Ushiromiya family's mansion long enough to know Maria's history; she had just started haunting the mansion when Rosa came to Rokkenjima pregnant and without a husband or fiancé in sight.

Truly, Maria had no human father. Rosa had trusted a man and gotten a child from him; he had repaid her trust by casting her aside and finding a woman he liked better to marry and have a family with. He had been a father to Maria in no way whatsoever, refusing to acknowledge her as his daughter or even see her. No birthday cards from that man, no visits or presents from him. As far as he was concerned, Maria didn't exist.

The whole sorry affair had caused Rosa no end of embarrassment and grief, and Beatrice had watched their interactions enough to know that Rosa took her embarrassment and grief out on Maria. Sad to say that before today watching as Rosa berated Maria over small slips or struck her over small matters had caused Beatrice only vague irritation. She had no power to change it, so why should she care? It seemed more annoying than anything else, but Beatrice looked at this girl, who steadfastly believed something that could give her a sense of peace in her sad life, and her annoyance turned to anger. How could Rosa blame her daughter for her early father's misdeeds?

And when Beatrice thought of the conclusion Maria had come to about her paternity, she marveled at it. She had not encountered too many humans who believed so fervently in God as to sincerely believe something like the idea that they were a child of the Holy Spirit. The girl Beatrice most often used as a host was so easily possessed partly because her spirit was joyless and hollow, but it had more to do with the fact that, while she believed in God, she had not been baptized—she had not let God's power flow into her heart, and it could not protect her. But Maria's belief in God was unshakable enough for her to hold such a belief in her heart. She was unassailable.

"Why don't you tell me more of what you've learned?" Beatrice suggested softly.

Maria was a veritable font of arcane knowledge. For the next half-hour, she spoke enthusiastically of angels and obscure demons. She turned to spells and incantations, explaining magic circles more in depth than she had before. The child also rattled off multiple book titles that Beatrice filed away in her mind—she would have to refer to them later.

In comparison, Beatrice spoke relatively little, mostly listening and nodding her head in response to what Maria said. Her irritation with Maria's sense of superiority forgotten, she could admit that she was impressed with the sheer breadth of Maria's knowledge regarding the world of God and magic. Few humans ever achieved such understanding in this day and age. Magic was widely considered a discredited art, and humanity was content to forget its true secrets. For one so young to dedicate herself to such rigorous study, she showed great potential.

When the talk began to wind down, Beatrice smiled down at Maria. "I must confess myself impressed, Maria. You have shown great knowledge for someone so young; to be able to give a lecture to a thousand-year-old Witch truly is an accomplishment. Tell me, what kind of magic can you use?"

But it seemed that Beatrice had finally hit upon something that Maria was _not_ familiar with. The wind blew the girl's hair across her face as she stiffened. "M-magic?" she asked softly, wilting a little.

"Hmm. If you call yourself a Witch, you should be able to perform at least a little bit of magic, even if it's just parlor tricks." Beatrice propped her chin on her hand. "Someone who knows a lot about magic and can talk about it is an apprentice. When you can put that knowledge into practice, that's when you become a Witch."

Maria's face fell, but she her tone was not distraught so much as just bewildered as she murmured, "Then… Maria is still not a Witch?"

Beatrice smiled reassuringly. "You're studying well, Maria, and when I look at you I can sense a rare talent. I think that, when the day comes, you will be a great Witch. Perhaps you will even reach the heights of a Creator, as you say. However," she said softly, "it stands that you can not perform magic. Yes, you're an apprentice. You're a Witch apprentice."

"Can you use magic, Beatrice?" Maria blurted out, half-anticipatory and half-defiant.

"Of course I can," Beatrice assured her. "I wouldn't even be able to call myself a Witch if I couldn't use magic."

Maria gasped. "Really?!" She hopped up from her chair and stared delightedly up into Beatrice's face. "Show me! Show me your magic, Beato!"

Beatrice paused.

She didn't know too much to say to this that would do anything but leave Maria deeply disappointed. The way she was now, she could perform very little magic; Beatrice could manage nothing but the 'parlor tricks' she had earlier derided. She no more wished to expose her weakness to Maria than she had wished to expose her ignorance, but when she looked down into that eager, innocent face, Beatrice couldn't bear to disappoint her.

There was something she could do.

-0-0-0-

That night, when Sayo served the family supper, she listened to Maria excitedly tell her relatives how she had met with Beatrice that day, only to have Rosa-sama tell her off with a fierce scowl on her face.

She had tricked that little girl, and she felt ashamed. But shame couldn't outweigh the way she had felt when Maria stared up at her in wonder and admiration. Shame couldn't outweigh the way she had felt when she discovered what it was like to be admired.

Sayo prayed that, for Maria's sake, the candy she had given her would still be whole when she got home.

-0-0-0-

In her own way, Sayo had come to dread visits from members of the Ushiromiya family at any time other than that of the annual family conference. Whenever she went down to the dock to greet them, her stomach churned and it was all she could do to force a smile and a friendly greeting. The feeling was probably at its worst when it was Rudolf-sama and his family who came to visit.

No one ever talked about Asumu-sama anymore. Not even Madam, who had of the adults been angriest with Rudolf-sama for remarrying so soon, spoke her name. Sayo thought it sad that Asumu-sama had been so thoroughly forgotten, considering that she had been one of the kindest people Sayo had ever met and was one of the few people in the Ushiromiya family whom everyone seems to get on well with. But perhaps it was only inevitable, considering that Rudolf-sama had married again and had another child, and there was no one in the family to remind them of Asumu-sama.

Whenever one of the siblings came to visit, with or without their families, Sayo found herself listening at doors, eavesdropping, trying to catch hints from snatches of conversation that inevitably left her disappointed. Had they heard from Battler? Had they seen or spoken to him? Did they have any idea if he was going to return to the Ushiromiya family, and when? Sayo could not ask the questions herself. It was not her place. She could not call him to find out. And yet the questions gnawed at her, tearing at the edges of her heart.

She tried not to think about it, most days. It wasn't her place. And yet, Sayo could tell herself all she liked that it wasn't her place, and she still would have felt like this.

If it was information Sayo wished for, she did indeed inevitably meet with disappointment. Battler was spoken of no more often than his mother anymore. The last time Sayo had heard anyone speak his name, it was last year when George-sama remarked that he thought that Battler was never even coming back. Sayo felt as though she was the only one who even remembered that Asumu-sama and Battler even existed. Kyrie-sama and Ange-sama had replaced them in everyone else's hearts.

"She's so adorable," Manon said with a sigh. She smiled as they watched Ange-sama sit in the shallows in her bathing suit, sifting sand through her fingers.

There were to be no doors for Sayo to stand behind today, no conversations between the siblings that she could eavesdrop on. This day in summer, Rudolf-sama and his family had come to visit Rokkenjima, and it was Sayo and Manon's task, today, to watch over little Ange-sama while she played on the beach. Sayo doubted that she would or even could glean anything of value from a three-year-old girl, even if she was Battler's sister.

"I suppose so," Sayo said in response. She let her long hair obscure her face, afraid to let Manon catch sight of her expression. Normally she pinned her hair back if she had to go down to the beach—her hair looked awful after being buffeted by the wind for long enough—but today, she couldn't bring herself to care.

What Sayo didn't expect was for Manon to gently nudge her in the ribs. "Come on," the other girl cajoled. "Don't tell me you just don't like ids. You get on well enough with Maria-sama."

Sayo's ears were filled with the memory of Manon and Jessica's laughter. She couldn't quite fake a smile. _I wouldn't be doubting him at all, if not for you_. "…Ange-sama is still quite young. I haven't gotten to know her well enough to know if I like her or not."

That noncommittal answer seemed to satisfy Manon, who went back to watching Ange-sama play in the sea water. Sayo tried not to watch Ange-sama—really, she did—but no matter how she tried to let her gaze wander to the distant blue horizon, it returned to the little girl.

Battler and Asumu-sama had been forgotten so easily, and Sayo knew why this was. Kyrie-sama had likely hoped for such an outcome; she likely would have been discomfited if the family kept bringing Asumu-sama's name up in conversation. The only way Kyrie-sama could really be happy in the Ushiromiya family was if Asumu-sama and Battler were no longer mentioned and she was allowed to be Rudolf-sama's wife in peace.

But the Ushiromiya family had an incentive for forgetting about Battler and Asumu-sama and not remain angry on their behalves. That was Ange-sama.

Ange-sama was the youngest child of the Ushiromiya family, and was likely to remain so until the time came when the grandchildren started having children of their own. She was, without a doubt, the darling of the family. One of the few things the entire family agreed upon was that they adored her; even Master, though Sayo knew that he was less than fond of most of his descendants, spoke of her fondly. However, the only way the family could ever see Ange-sama was if Kyrie-sama felt comfortable enough with the rest of the family to visit. Kyrie-sama was mostly unflappable—Sayo didn't think she had ever seen her rendered uncomfortable—but even she could be made to feel uncomfortable. If anyone wanted to see Ange-sama, they had to behave as though both she and Kyrie-sama were welcome on Rokkenjima. Speaking of Asumu-sama or Battler would not help in that regard.

To hate or resent another human for something that was not her fault was ungodly. Sayo knew that much, and she knew that such thoughts only added to the weight of her sins, even if she didn't act on such thoughts. But when she looked at Ange-sama, all she could think about was Battler.

Ange-sama had the same vivid blue eyes, the same bright red hair as her half-brother. She had some of the same facial expressions as Battler; the way her little face lit up in curiosity was just the same as his. The cadence of her laugh was so similar to his that it made Sayo's heart seize. Ange-sama's presence was like a twist of the knife deeper into her heart. She saw the child, and remembered that Battler wasn't there, and she had neither seen nor heard from him for nearly three years.

Then, Sayo would look at Ange-sama and remember that she was the reason Battler wasn't here. The thought made her face burn with shame, and she would turn her gaze away from Ange-sama, but the thought never left her, and she had to stare at her like this. It hurt worse than any glance into the mirror, worse than any whiff of Beatrice's anti-magic toxin, but the only one in pain was her.

"Have faith," Beatrice murmured into her ear, appearing as a spire of wispy sea foam, breaking off in the wind and yet always reforming. "You must have faith in Battler if you want him to come back for you, and if you let bitterness into your heart, where does that leave you? Either you'll never see him again or he won't recognize you when he comes back."

"I'm already afraid he won't recognize me." Sayo rubbed her upper arms compulsively. "I feel so different."

"God can see into your heart as well as I can," Beatrice counseled. "Do you think that bitterness and resentment will be rewarded? No! It won't be. It especially won't be if you're bitter against and resenting an innocent child. Ange probably misses Battler's company as much as you do. In fact, I bet she misses him _more_ than you do. Ange only sees her own brother on her birthday. Can you imagine how that must make her feel?"

It wasn't fair to Ange-sama. God would look into her heart and judge her unworthy of ever having her dreams fulfilled. Battler would be disgusted with her and rightfully cast her aside if he could ever see the way she felt about his little half-sister. It didn't matter whether or not Battler felt a great deal for Ange-sama—she was his flesh and blood, and that bond far transcended bonds of love forged by children sitting under an arbor talking about mystery novels.

And yet…

Every time Sayo looked at Ange-sama, she was reminded of the fact that Battler had left the Ushiromiya family, partly on account of the girl's existence. If Ange-sama had not been born, if Rudolf-sama had not committed adultery to conceive her, Battler would not have left the Ushiromiya family. He would still be coming to Rokkenjima with his father. Maybe, by now, he and Sayo…

Salt stung at her eyes and cheeks. Sayo wasn't sure what to attribute it to, but either way, there was a moment when her vision blurred and her blood roared in her ears.

_How much longer must I wait?_

_How much longer must I live this sort of half-life?_

_God, how much longer before he comes back for me?_

"Hey, did I tell you?" Manon's voice sounded in her ear, faint and wavering, as though from far away. "I'm seeing this guy at school."

_Does he leave you desperate for confirmation of his feelings? Do you laugh at yourself when he brushes you off and joke about how pathetic you are with your friends? _Sayo wondered savagely. _It seems only fair, considering how much you laughed about girls like me_.

Huh. That was cruel. ("Vindictive!" Beatrice crowed. "Against girls like her, I approve!") Sayo affixed a warm smile to her face and turned to Manon. "Oh? What's he like?"

She let Manon talk without interrupting her. Manon didn't really want a conversation. She couldn't. She just wanted someone to tell about her new boyfriend—someone to extol his virtues to, it became clear. All this required was that she listened, and Sayo could do that. It was all anyone ever required of her anymore, and Sayo lived to serve. She could listen.

-0-0-0-

Sayo was beginning to believe herself too changeable for her own good where the weather was concerned. It was true that the bitter chill of winter became intolerable for her after a while, but sometimes she thought that summer was even worse. The thought came when the sweat that had pooled in her collar started to dry and the reek rose in her nostrils. The smell made it difficult for her to concentrate on her work, and Madam wrinkled her nose whenever she drew close enough to one of the servants to smell the sweat on them. No matter whether Madam had scolded her or not, Sayo couldn't help but hang her head when she walked away. She felt humiliated.

Spending any amount of time outside only heightened the effect, though some of the tasks that took Sayo outside were more pleasurable than others. Master was still allowing her to practice shooting with his Winchester shotguns. She was a little surprised that he was still allowing her to do this and hadn't lost interest in teaching her how to shoot, but she was still cognizant of a difference in the way he treated her, as compared to the other girls from the Fukuin House. Sayo didn't pretend to understand his reasoning, but she supposed that accounted for it.

"You need to learn how to clean a gun properly," Master declared one day in late July, and Sayo saw no reason to refuse him. Her entire work centered around cleaning; though her talent varied greatly, it didn't seem like it would be anything too different than what she was used to.

Master had cleared off his desk in the study, piling all of the objects and papers on the coffee table and the couch. Genji-sama laid old newspapers over the desk, and at Master's request remained in the study to provide help if needed. That was how Sayo found herself sitting in a chair right beside Master's, watching him clean one of the guns as an example.

His appearance itself was new to her. Whenever Master appeared before guests or members of the family, he took care to be impeccably dressed. His suit was pressed, his tie was quite straight, and he was never seen without the long coat and ring that marked the head of the Ushiromiya family. Sayo would never have imagined him wearing reading glasses to help focus his eyes, his coat and suit jacket tossed carelessly over another chair, and his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow to clean one of his beloved Winchesters. Even the act of cleaning something was one Sayo would never visualized, but here it was. Master's ring flashed in the sunlight; the soot on his arms glistened dully.

"Pay attention, Shannon," he told her, somehow managing to sound both authoritative and absent. It was a tone Sayo had grown accustomed to over the last few months and no longer found strange. "I'm only going to do this once. You'll want a clear image in your mind."

"Yes, Master." She smiled faintly. This seemed simple enough. Even if she missed a step in this process, she had no doubt that Master would correct her; he was too fond of his guns to countenance allowing someone to clean one incorrectly.

After Master finished cleaning the gun he had used today, Sayo started on her own. As she had suspected would happen, Master soon stopped her with a wave of his hand and a stern look. "The safety, Shannon?"

Sayo stared uncomprehendingly at him before realizing what he meant. She had to check and make sure the safety was on. "Oh…" Sayo blushed in embarrassment. "Right." After making sure that the safety was on, Sayo caught herself and checked to make sure there weren't any more rounds in the gun before Master could point that out as well. It was important to get this right.

Sayo stole a glance at Master out of the corner of her eyes. She couldn't tell if he approved or not. She went on with her cleaning.

Then, all of a sudden, Master slumped back against his chair, raising a hang to his forehead and groaning softly. Sayo looked up from her cleaning in concern. "Master?" She laid a hand on his arm, frowning deeply.

Master waved her off with a grimace. He directed his gaze instead at Genji-sama. "Genji, bring up the bottle of Tokaji from the kitchen, if you would."

The almost pleading tone in Master's voice startled Sayo, but not nearly as much as the way Genji-sama responded to this order (Phrased as a request as it might have been). Genji-sama's gaze flitted from Master to Sayo herself, and eventually back to Master; his eyes and posture were full of some tense, unidentifiable emotion. For a moment, Sayo was sure that he was going to refuse. However, Genji-sama nodded his head in deference to Master. "Very well. I will return shortly."

Sayo wondered why Genji-sama had said that so firmly.

All questions about Genji-sama's behavior faded from her mind, though, once she was alone in the study with Master. Sayo stared at him with mounting worry. Master's already-lined face was etched with discomfort, looking noticeably paler than he did normally. He rubbed his forehead wearily with his hand, eyes screwed shut. She squirmed in her chair. "Master… I can go wet a cloth in the washroom."

"No, Shannon."

Her offer of aid rebuffed, Sayo felt her stomach knot. She knew that Master was not a young man—if she understood correctly, he was approaching eighty—but he had never seemed frail to her before now. Master always seemed full of energy, never wanting for vitality when he interacted with his family or his guests. He could argue to the end, shout someone down without breaking a sweat. Master had never looked his age, not to her. He had never looked like a frail old man.

"Master, what's wrong?" Sayo asked him anxiously, keeping her voice low.

"Oh, it's nothing," Master said dismissively. "Just an old man's aches and pains. At your age—" he shot a pointed glance at Sayo "—I doubt you can imagine it, but when you get to be my age, such things become commonplace. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with."

From everything Sayo had ever heard about Master, she had the impression that he would refuse to let Doctor Nanjo examine him even if he was in the throes of a heart attack. But she could see nothing to do but nod and stammer, "Al… Alright." Any thought of finishing cleaning the Winchester lying in front of her had been forgotten.

The silence was nearly overwhelming. Sayo hoped that Genji-sama would return soon, though she wasn't entirely sure that alcohol was the best answer to Master's 'aches and pains.' Against her will, she imagined Master keeling over right in front of her, and could barely stifle a terrified giggle.

"Oh, relax," Beatrice muttered languidly from her chair. She kicked apathetically at an areca nut that had been left on the carpet. "Kinzo's far too energetic to die on account of a headache. That man will die as he's lived—melodramatically."

"Shannon." Sayo nearly jumped out of her skin when Master wound his hand over her wrist. His lined, loose skin felt strange and damp against her own. "Thank you," Master murmured tiredly.

"…Master?"

"Just… Thank you." He smiled faintly at her. There was an odd light in his gray eyes. "I doubt any of my own children—" he curled his lip "—would have shown concern for my sake with half of your sincerity."

Sayo considered all the rumors that had ever been passed down to her concerning Master. She had gotten an impression of him as a fickle, terrifying man, his moods as changeable as his whims. The impression she got was that he possessed such an all-consuming obsession with the Witch of Rokkenjima ("And isn't _that_ a pretty picture?" Beatrice grimaced, a disturbed expression on her face) that he was concerned with absolutely nothing else. To believe the rumors, Master had to be forced even to eat and sleep.

Well, Master was a fickle man. In the years she had served the Ushiromiya family, Sayo had watched his mood change from calm to stormy in an instant countless times. If he was considered intimidating, Sayo knew that this was as much due to Master's changeable moods as it was too the terrible dignity of the head of the Ushiromiya family. But as for the rest of the rumors, they seemed so silly in retrospect. She had heard Master speak Beatrice's name all of twice in her presence. Though how much he ate varied greatly from day to day, it was a well-established fact that Master loved his food, loved to eat fine food and drink expensive alcohol. And a hobby involving the occult was just that—a hobby.

He really wasn't the inhuman creature all the servants' rumors made him out to be. When one got to know him, when one knew him beyond his disdain for his children, he could be a remarkably pleasant man. It was horrid, the way Master's children kept talking as though they were just waiting for him to die. Whatever sins he may have committed against them in the past, however abrasive he was now, knowing that his own children were waiting for him to die could not have sweetened his mood.

Somewhat hesitantly, Sayo smiled back.

-0-0-0-

When the time for the family conference drew near, the servants always knew at least a week in advance how many beds to prepare and how much food to make. It was only proper and it would have been considered impolite to make more work for the servants by showing up on the island unexpectedly, without at least that week's forewarning. As a consequence, Sayo knew exactly how many people would be coming to Rokkenjima for the family conference tomorrow.

Battler would most likely not be among them.

She was sitting up in bed, a book lying across her lap with the spine and cover facing up. Sayo stared out of the window into the night, eyeing the raindrops left-over from an afternoon shower. She was trying to breathe normally, trying to ignore the growing ache in her chest. As it stood, Sayo felt as though her heart had come to live in her throat. Her eyes prickled and burned. Sleep was unattractive to her. If she slept, Sayo feared that she would once again have the nightmares that had become common around the time of the family conference.

"_Who are you again?"_

"_Battler-san, it's Shannon. Don't you remember me?"_

"_I don't know anyone named Shannon. Sorry, I've never seen you before."_

The kinder of the dreams, probably, compared to the alternative.

"…_Battler-san… Please, Battler-san… You promised that you would take me away from here!"_

"_What?" _His mouth split into a grin. His eyes were vast and empty, mirrors for her despair. She quailed at that pitiless gaze. _"Yeah, I remember saying that. You… really took all that seriously? Don't you think that's a bit pathetic? I don't like you that much; I certainly don't love you. Wasn't that obvious? Really, who'd take all that seriously?"_

For the second time today, Sayo's stomach lurched. She tossed her book and the covers aside, leaning over the edge of the bed. Sayo clutched her abdomen and took deep, shuddering breaths until she was sure that she wasn't going to vomit. Cold sweat dribbled down her face.

It was the night that made her fears seem so great. It was the darkness that made the shadows loom so large. It was the faint glimmer of lamplight on the mirror that made it seem as though her demons had gathered behind her and were whispering these awful things in her ears. That must have been it.

Beatrice sat down beside her on the bed. The Witch took but a moment to stared disdainfully at the mussed bed sheets before clasping Sayo's hands within her own. "The night is long, it's true. When we are gripped by fear and uncertainty, it is easy to doubt. But God does not reward the doubtful. I know it's hard." Her brow furrowed, her proud blue eyes flooding with sympathy. "I am chained to this island; I can not exist anywhere outside of it. I know how unbearable life on Rokkenjima can be. And I know how must you have longed for that miracle. But you must not despair."

"Too true." A hole opened up in the ceiling, and Beatrice's demoness friend alit on the chair. Though it was the first time the demoness had made such an appearance in the waking world, Sayo looked at her without surprise in her eyes. The nameless being smiled at her in a surprisingly kind way. "You just need to have a little more faith, that's all. And I've been watching you—I know you've found _some _solace."

If she was referring to Master, that was not remotely the same thing. Sayo enjoyed being allowed to take target practice with Master—and if it was not arrogant to say so, Sayo would say that she thought she was getting quite good at it—and she enjoyed Master's company. It was still a little nerve-wracking, sometimes. Sayo got the distinct impression that Madam would scold her harshly if she ever saw her and Master interacting with one another; it was so far from what was considered 'proper' behavior for a member of the Ushiromiya family and a servant.

But at times like this, it felt like a distraction. It was nothing more than a distraction for Sayo, a diversion from her gray life; it was pleasant for her, but it could not last, and it could not erase the rest of her time on Rokkenjima. These brief, flitting moments of contentment could not give her a new life somewhere else. And Sayo wasn't certain that this all wasn't a distraction for Master, too. He was so disillusioned with his family, rarely speaking well of any of them. If he had taken an interest in one of the younger servants, perhaps it was only because he didn't feel that anyone in his family was worth spending his time with. For all that he _seemed_ to like Sayo, it might have only been because there was no better option.

(She was selling everyone short. She was assuming the worst of everyone, especially Master, who had been so much kinder to her than she deserved. God would not look favorably on this, either, and Sayo rubbed at her arms, squeezed her eyes shut, but could not make them go away.

Eventually, Sayo told herself that she would think differently under the sun.)

"You're right," Sayo said to the empty room. She smiled weakly, her lips quavering just a touch. "You're right, of course. Forgive me; I'm always so fearful. Of course Battler-san hasn't forgotten his promise. Some day…"

She extinguished the lamp, and listened to her heartbeat in the dark.


	7. Root of Love

[Trigger Warning/Content Note for this chapter: Sayo has a moment in which she is thinking that it is a sin against God for her to go around dressed as a boy. Since she doesn't identify as male in this context, I'm not sure if that counts as transphobia, but I wanted to be on the safe side.]

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><p><em>Root of Love<em>

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><p><em>Ushiromiya family conference, 1983<em>

Sayo awoke to hot sunlight on her face and the faint whistling sound of wind brushing over the roof outside. She sighed heavily as she sat up in bed, running a hand through her hair so that at least it didn't fall all over her face. She found she felt stiffer and sorer than she usually did, even when first waking up.

Her eyes burned a little bit.

It might have been her imagination, but it took Sayo longer to get dressed this morning than it usually did. The laborious process of donning multiple layers of clothing, tying her corset only for her fingers to slip or for her to lace it up wrong, having to iron her apron because she'd forgotten to do so last night, combing her hair only to find it more tangled than usual. The whole morning seemed to be moving agonizingly slowly, down to the sun creeping up the horizon at a snail's pace, rather than

Sayo paused by her mirror on her way out of her room. She stared into its depths and affixed a smile to her face, but she found it strained and brittle, and such a lifeless thing that it soon dropped off her face. She pulled up an expression of polite detachment instead. It would be an affront to the dignity of the Ushiromiya family for her to be seen moping on any day, but on such a day as this…

Such a day as this.

She ate breakfast in silence with the other servants, barely hearing when Genji-sama listed off their duties for the day. All Sayo heard was her own—to go down to the docks and greet the visiting family members, as she always did—and she did not know whether to be grateful, to cry or to vomit. Certainly her stomach lurched and her eyes stung, but she remained expressionless, and merely nodded obediently.

In her heart, Sayo knew that she should entertain no hope. The number of beds the servants had set up was the same as it had been last year, and the year before that. If Battler had changed his mind at the last minute and had decided to reunite with his father, she would have been told to set up another bed before coming out to the docks this morning. There was no way that he was on that boat, and there was no way he would be here today.

And yet, as the boat neared the docks and the sound of Maria-sama and Ange-sama's laughter became audible over the crashing waves and the sound of the boat's motor, Sayo found that hope had yet taken root in her heart. It was just a little thing, this hope, the idea that maybe Battler had planned to surprise his family (_surprise her_) and had asked Rudolf-sama not to say anything about his returning to the fold of the Ushiromiya family. Perhaps she would hear his laughter as well, as the family disembarked from the boat.

But it was not to be. Of course it wasn't.

The adults were all smiling and joking with one another, though Sayo knew it wouldn't last. It would take a few hours at most for them to fall into their steady routine of trading barbs and backhanded compliments, and only a few hours after that for outwardly civil discussion to turn to violent arguments and recriminations. They could joke about turning Rokkenjima into a resort, they could comment on the weather, and Rosa-sama could even remark upon Sayo's having apparently grown taller since they last met, but she knew it wouldn't last. The children were far more likely to retain their good mood.

"Please let me show you to the mansion. If you would follow me."

No one so much as mentioned Battler, though Sayo chided herself, wondering why she was even surprised by that. It had been so long since she had last heard his name spoken aloud, and longer since she had heard his own father speak of him. It should not have surprised her. It should not have hurt her. She had had years to grow accustomed to such a reality, of Battler being forgotten by his own family. Sayo swallowed hard, clutching at her apron with one hand.

_Next year, I suppose. Or the year after that. Or the year after that. I will endure silence until then. I can ask no one—what place has a servant to ask after the estranged son of the Ushiromiya family? Madam would scold me. I…_

"…Battler…"

Sayo's heart jolted. She whirled around, uncaring if anyone saw her shock, her widened eyes.

"What, you saw Battler-kun?" George-sama asked Kyrie-sama with a smile.

Just a moment after, Milady added her voice to his questions. "How's he doing?!" she exclaimed excitedly, a grin playing around her mouth.

Herself, Sayo was grateful to them both for asking the questions that her station could not allow. In spite of herself, she felt a giddy, reckless smile forming on her lips, showing teeth where it should not have. Her heart began to pound in her chest as she looked to Kyrie-sama, who had spoken Battler's name earlier.

Kyrie-sama leaned against one of the low walls in the rose garden, resting her hands upon the brick. "He's doing very well," she assured them. Something perhaps a touch ambivalent shone in her brown eyes as she spoke, but it was only there for a moment, and Sayo would later suppose that she had imagined it. "I took Ange and had some tea with him the other day."

Sayo raised her eyebrows at that. She had gotten the distinct impression that Asumu-sama's parents were fond neither of Kyrie-sama nor Ange-sama. It seemed amazing that Battler's grandparents would allow either his stepmother or his half-sister, but she supposed that if Battler had prevailed upon his grandparents, they might have relented. Still, Kyrie-sama had spoken with Battler, had _seen _him, and recently, too. How was he? Was he still as cheerful as Sayo remembered? It seemed impossible that he had not changed some over the years since she had last seen him, but was he at heart the same person? Was he still the boy who had promised to take her away from Rokkenjima?

_Did he talk about me at all?_

It seemed that Battler and Rudolf-sama had both given up on the anger that had led to Battler leaving the Ushiromiya family, though according to Kyrie-sama, father and son were alike in stubbornness, and neither was willing to apologize first. Rudolf-sama looked away at this, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. There was also the matter of Battler being very fond of his maternal grandparents and having gotten used to living with them and going to school in the town where they lived—and that Asumu-sama's parents were still quite furious with Rudolf-sama over his hasty remarriage.

_That… That's good, isn't it? Battler-san might come back to the Ushiromiya family soon, if he's no longer angry with Rudolf-sama. It's just a matter of persuading Asumu-sama's parents now, isn't it? Their anger must be the only true barrier left between Battler-san and the rest of his family._

God had heard her pleas, and had granted her this sign. That must have been it. God had taken pity on her, wretched as she was, and had finally given her a solid foundation for her hopes, for the idea that Battler might indeed return to the Ushiromiya family, and finally come for her. '_Your faith is not in vain_,' God seemed to say. '_It is not a vain hope to continue to wait for your beloved. Have faith in him, and wait patiently, and he will come.'_

Sayo nodded resolutely. She would wait. She _could _wait. Be it one more year, two, three, four or five, be it so long as a decade, she could wait. Suddenly, the pain she had felt over the last three years seemed almost laughable. Had she really been so faithless? Had she really agonized so much over Battler? Hadn't it been obvious to her that eventually it would be only circumstances outside of his control that kept him from her? Of course they would be reunited, one day.

_I have waited for three years, and I can wait longer. The seeds of love within my heart have grown strong, and their roots will not be dislodged._

_This is how honest my feelings for you are now._

…_I… I love you._

_I want to see you again as soon as I can. Until that time… I'll keep that bud of love warm and growing for you._

_I won't doubt the coming of that day anymore._

_Just as I think of you, under the same sky, I believe that you are thinking of me._

And yet, she needed to ask one more favor of God. _Please. My feelings for Battler-san are as strong as they were three years—stronger, even. I have not wavered. I have doubted many things, but never my love for him. Demons have taunted and tormented me, but I never doubted my love for him. Please, God, grant me this one request. Let me know that he feels the same way. Give me a sign, just one small sign. One is enough; it is all I need. I know that it is a sin to ask this of you, to demand evidence when it is my faith that is required, but I must know._

"Oh, that's right." Kyrie-sama began rummaging through her purse. "It's been so long since Battler-kun last saw you all, right? I thought you might be feeling lonely, so I told him to write you letters. Here they are." With a deft hand, she pulled a thick brown envelope from her purse.

_Huh?_

Sayo felt as though her heart would burst. Had God heard her prayers? She struggled to keep from grinning, from laughing, struggled to keep tears from trickling from her eyes.

George-sama and Milady both crowded around their aunt. Kyrie-sama smirked slightly and handed the envelope to George-sama. At first, Sayo felt disappointment pierce her heart when she realized that there was only one envelope, but when George-sama opened it, two folded letters fell out onto the grass. He laughed good-naturedly and picked them back up.

"Hmm, looks like this one's addressed to me," he remarked of the first to fall to the ground. "They all have different names on them. Here, this one's yours, Jessica-chan." George-sama handed the other letter that had fallen to her.

"Thanks!"

Sayo watched as George-sama went around, digging through the envelope to find the letters still in there. _Battler-san _does _remember me. He must. Surely there must be a letter for me there. I'll have his address from that and I can write back to him. I'll finally be able to talk to him again._

There was one for Maria-sama, though she couldn't read yet. Rosa-sama promised to read it for her later, and Sayo wondered briefly if Rosa-sama would hold that promise over Maria-sama's head in order to force her to behave, but shoved the thought aside. It was unworthy of her. There was also a letter for Ange-sama, though it had been not a week since she had last seen her brother. That was a bit… _odd_, but Sayo could hardly fault Battler for being an affectionate brother.

After that, George-sama stopped passing out the letters. Milady began reading from hers excitedly—Battler's letter to her seemed to be a recounting of his exploits at school and with his friends. Some of the adults gathered around Milady and George-sama, reading Battler's letters to them over their shoulders. Rudolf-sama seemed especially interested in the letter Battler had written to Ange-sama, though Kyrie-sama wouldn't let him read it. Sayo stared at the family, bewildered. _Surely that can't be all._

She took a tentative step forwards. "…Umm …is that… all of them?"

George-sama nodded and smiled lightly. "Yep. Looks like that's all of them. Thanks a lot." And he handed the envelope to her, and turned his back.

Sayo's heart began to hammer in her chest. She slipped her hand inside of the envelope, feeling around frantically for another letter. _There must be another one. George-sama must have missed it. There must be another one. There must be. There must be… _

But the envelope was empty.

"Whoa. The more I read, the more fun it looks like Battler-kun's been having. Living every day to the fullest."

As Sayo had been unable to.

"That's what it looks like in mine, too. If he's happy, then I guess that's what counts."

There was a laugh. It sounded baleful and high-pitched, like the laugh of a demon. "That's so mean of Battler-kun. It sounds like he forgot about us until you told him to write those letters."

_There was no letter for me. He… didn't want to talk to me?_

"I wonder if he really does plan to stay away."

"It looks like he does. In my letter, it says that he doesn't plan to return to Rokkenjima."

The smell of the roses, sweet, over-ripe and faintly of decay, rose in Sayo's nostrils. The wind rushed in Sayo's ears, and to her, it sounded as though someone was wailing.

-0-0-0-

"Beato?" Maria's little hands touched her cheeks gently. "Why are you crying?"

-0-0-0-

"_Love is an illusion. However, if both sides are seeing the same illusion, the love becomes true. However, when the feelings of each side are different, …then it's nothing more than a joke."_

…

"_It was nothing more than a sad… joke."_

-0-0-0-

She was being tested. She had been tested for years. Sayo knew that her suffering was light compared to the suffering of certain others. There was a Greek story where a woman waited twenty years for her missing husband to return to her, and during all that time she had been assailed by doubt, by grief, by unwanted suitors in the last few years she had to wait. Penelope had been bound to Odysseus by something stronger than simply love, but by marriage and by the child she had by her husband. Penelope's faith and patience were sorely tested, but Odysseus eventually returned to her.

Three years was nothing on twenty. God was testing her. Everything up until now had been a test. Battler's leaving the Ushiromiya family, his silence towards her. Milady and Manon's laughter, George-sama's assurances that Battler had 'left the nest.' Her own doubts and uncertainty. And those letters were the most stringent test of all, likely given to her because she had wavered, yet again. Inconstancy could only be met with trials. She was just unworthy of Battler, as she was now. That was what it was. God would not let him come back until her faith was finally something that could not be broken by petty fears.

Right?

She wanted to believe that.

This would have an end. Her suffering would end, one day. She would find happiness, one day, when her faith was unassailable, and the root of love in her heart was not something that could be dislodged by fear.

This would end, eventually.

There would be an end.

So she had hoped.

But lately… Lately, it was just too much.

The Golden Land was possessed of a dingy gray hue tonight. The flowers had no color, and no scent. The butterflies lied prone on the ground like leaves; their glittering gold dust scattered across the cobblestones and the grass was the only color in this pallid world.

Sayo sat beneath the arbor, sobbing helplessly. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs and her cheeks were red, both from crying and where she had dug her fingernails into her skin. _Why? Why?_

How much easier would it have been to hate him? To hate her circumstances? If she hated him, or was even angry with him, she could have picked herself up and moved on. It would not have produced such unendurable pain, as though her heart was tearing in to. But she could not hate him. Sayo could not hate anyone. Hatred was only another sin; indulging in hate would just add more sins to the account of her deeds.

She had been arrogant. She had believed for three years that Battler had thought the same way she did, when there was no proof for it. She had believed that the promise that he made to her was just as binding to him as it was to her. She had believed that it was something he would hold in his heart.

"_It's a bit sad when a girl gets the wrong idea for no reason."_

That had been her.

She had just been arrogant.

"No." Beatrice's voice was unusually soft, so full of regret that she barely seemed the same person. "…I am to blame for this. My irresponsible words led you to believe that Battler made a promise."

Sayo drew her hands away from her face and looked up. She saw herself reflected in Beatrice's shining blue eyes, small and pitiful, worn and drained from weeping. She looked more like an animal in a cage than a girl. It… seemed fitting. Sayo shook her head. "No," she croaked. "This isn't anyone's fault. …It's all because I assumed that he felt the same way I did…"

She could not hate him, for he did not remember the promise. She could not hate him, because she did not even know if it was a promise.

Beatrice made a small, desperate noise in the back of her throat. "Battler did not make a promise. However, that does not mean his feelings were anything to be laughed at!" she protested. For a moment, her eyes seemed just as gray as the sky behind her. "Though there might have been a difference in degree when compared to yours, it is true that he liked you!" _Liked, not loved_. "Of that, there can be no doubt."

But Sayo shook her head again, slumping in her chair. "…Please… just stop it," she whispered. Fresh tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "…I've believed that he liked me the way I liked him without ever doubting that. …Please don't try to cheer me up. I would rather you mocked me."

She had been a fool.

The pain in her chest began to intensify. It was a dull ache, but grew every moment in agony. Sayo doubled over, clutching at her chest. She did not need to be told what this was. The seeds of love she had nourished in her heart had grown, but being unfulfilled, and facing the prospect of being forever unfulfilled, they were nothing more than a tumor. The roots grew and climbed like vines, over her bones and her internal organs. They wrapped like metal wires over her heart, squeezing tighter and tighter every time her heart beat, pricking her like barbed wire. This was love.

This was love.

The only way Sayo could have ended the pain was by ripping out the root of love. She would abandon her faith in Battler and abandon her love for him, and ripping out the root of love would be as easy ripping a little weed from its place in the garden. But she could not. She scratched and clawed at her flesh, but she could only pull out little bits, and never reach the core. It was too well-entrenched. Something that had been nurtured for three years could not be pried away so easily. She would die.

A trill of incredulous, sobbing laughter tore from Sayo's throat. "I… Even now, I… love Battler-san. …I want to see him. I want him to come back. …I still believe he will come back someday, and I want to wait for him… But… now it's just… just too much."

She was a fool. Beatrice should have laughed at her. She was clinging to her pain and the thing that caused her pain. So long as she loved Battler, the root of love would constrict her heart. It would strangle her, make her like a ghost that yet walked in fleshly form. She couldn't let go of it, even though it was obvious from those letters that Battler didn't want to come back to Rokkenjima.

_I must wait for him for all eternity, despite how painful, aching, excruciating this is…_

"Is this another trial?" she asked Beatrice desperately. "Is God telling me… to wait for him forever? I can't do that." She swallowed back another round of sobs. The beating of her heart began to slow, finally constricted too far by the root of love. "I… want to be with Battler-san. But if this is the trial that I must go through for that… It's too painful."

Beatrice worried at her lip. She did not look like a grand, mysterious witch now; there was nothing queenly about her demeanor. She hung her head, clenched her fists, and she looked more human than she ever had. Her hand went to her own chest, clutching at the fabric of her dress.

Finally, she said, very softly:

"…This is… my fault."

Sayo stared at her, confused. "What's your fault?" Beatrice had not planted the seeds of love. She had not manufactured Sayo's love for Battler. No one, not even God, could do that.

Beatrice stepped forward slightly. A small gust of wind blew through the Golden Land, kicking up the golden dust from the butterflies' wings. The glittering dust caught on their clothes, their skin, their hair. "For three years, I tortured you with the illusion of a promise that never happened. If I had not nourished the bud of love within you, you would not have suffered so."

Sayo said nothing.

The Witch reached out and took Sayo's hands in her own much larger ones. There was a look of compassion on her face that was more akin to the expression of a mother than a thousand-year-old Witch. "This may sound harsh… but listen."

"…What is it?"

"Forget Battler," Beatrice murmured. Her face contorted for a moment, but she went on, "…There was no bud of love in the first place."

"…No. I'm the one who nourished it." _With worm-eaten faith. _"…No matter how painful it is, I can't forget it."

"But you cannot bear that pain any longer, can you?" Beatrice pointed out gently.

Sayo hung her head.

Beatrice nodded resolutely. "That is the case, then. And it is the case that you cannot abandon your love, even knowing that the root will kill you." She sighed heavily. "Oh, my dear friend. People need a universe to survive. One person cannot create that universe alone. Two are needed."

"…A universe."

"Yes. You created a universe when you were paired with Battler. The universe was born out of the bud of love. But when two becomes one, a universe created between them can only crumble. No one can complete a universe by themselves."

"…And Battler-san won't come back," Sayo said numbly. "So that universe will stay dead, then."

Beatrice tilted her head; strands of her long white hair fell over her face. "Then you must create a new universe with someone else."

"But who?!" Sayo pleaded, her voice rising to a wail. "Who is there for me?!" Her eyes welled with tears, though her eyes were raw and burning. "Who could possibly…"

The golden dust on Beatrice's dress began to glow like embers or distant stars. "I will give you that person," she promised her. "A creature to bury the emptiness in your heart and heal you. Someone who will never betray you."

"W-will that person make me forget this pain?"

Beatrice smiled sadly. "Yes, he will. He will be your brother. You need a universe, and I will give it to you. And now…" She disentangled her right hand from Sayo's, and laid it atop the girl's heart. "…Seeing that you cannot remove it under your own power, I will take your pain from you. I will bear it for you. I will learn of the single element that humans possess in abundance, but I lack. …And you will live without your pain, and live to love again."

-0-0-0-

Beatrice's shape changed, as it must. Sayo fashioned her new shape, and watched as it took form.

"Modify this world. …Let the bud of love travel from Shannon to Beatrice."

Give her the blonde hair he loves so much. Give her grace, and style, and boldness enough to be a match for him. Let her love him, ache over his absence, long for him in her heart. Beatrice had been waiting… for three years now.

The world changed.

-0-0-0-

The next day dawned sunny, if a bit pale; the sun was slightly obscured behind a thin screen of cloud. Shannon yawned as she slid out of bed, but truth be told, this was the best-rested she had felt in weeks. She'd had a lovely dream last night, though she could barely remember what it had been about. Just the faint after-image of sparkling stardust and golden butterflies.

When Shannon went to the vanity to brush out her long, tangled hair, she started at the sight of her reflection in the glass. _Did I really cry so much last night? _she wondered to herself, touching her red cheeks, dabbing at her puffy, bloodshot eyes with a handkerchief. _Was I crying in my sleep too?_

Her face was a bit pathetic, to be honest. It wouldn't be the first time Shannon had shown such a pathetic face, of course; she often found herself driven to miserable tears over things that later turned out not to matter as much as she thought they did. But apart from the fleeting worry about what Madam would say if she saw Shannon's face, Shannon found her mood to be much sunnier than her face would have suggested. She smiled brightly into the mirror.

_What was I so upset about? It seems like such a small thing now._

She'd been crying about Battler-sama not coming back to Rokkenjima again this year. Well, that was just silly, wasn't it? It wasn't really Shannon's place to be upset about one of the family not coming to the Ushiromiya family conference. Besides, she liked him, certainly, but it wasn't like the intensity of her feelings really justified this sort of display. _I hope Battler-sama does come back eventually_, she admitted. _I know his family misses him, and it would be nice to talk to him about mystery novels again. But I shouldn't be getting so upset about this_.

A new servant was joining them from the Fukuin House today. Shannon had been surprised when she heard he was a boy—it was usually only girls who were selected for this assignment; there hadn't been a boy servant in years. It was Yoshiya who had been chosen, though now of course he would be called Kanon. Shannon remembered him from the Fukuin House. He was younger than her, a quiet, reticent boy who had a knack for creeping up on people with silent feet. He was one of the few who had been nice to her there; she hoped that working with Kanon would prove as pleasant as interacting with him in the Fukuin House had been.

_Since I'm the senior servant from the Fukuin House, I'll have to show him around today. I'd better get ready quickly so we'll have some more time._

"You look cheerful today," Manon observed as they made their way down the stairs.

"Oh?" Shannon responded lightly, not quite meeting Manon's gaze.

"Well, you just seemed really out of it yesterday. I was wondering…"

"I don't know what you mean, Manon-san," Shannon said carefully. "I don't really feel any different today than I did yesterday."

Manon raised an eyebrow, but didn't press.

Kanon had agreed to meet Shannon down in the entrance hall, which Shannon was supposed to dust today, along with the rest of the first floor of the Ushiromiya mansion. However, when Shannon got to the entrance hall, Kanon was nowhere to be found. Her brow furrowed. _I hope he hasn't overslept, _she fretted. _He was always awful about oversleeping at the Fukuin House_.

She didn't have time to go back to the servants' quarters to look for him, and besides, Shannon reasoned, if Kanon had been chosen to become a servant of the Ushiromiya family, his behavior and habits must have been deemed acceptable for such an august post. She would just have to have faith that Kanon would be on his way soon. She began to dust down the entrance hall, starting with the windowsills.

This Shannon did for several minutes, growing increasingly worried for Kanon as she did so. It was his first day, so he wasn't going to be held to as strict a standard yet, but Madam would still scold him harshly if it came to her attention that he was so late to start working. _Kanon-kun's not going to make much of an impression at this rate…_

"Neesan."

"Ooo!" Shannon jumped and whirled around, heart beating just a little fast. It seemed Kanon's footfalls were just as silent as they had ever been; she'd not heard him coming even in the entrance hall, where the slightest noise echoed on the vaulted ceiling. "Oh, Kanon-kun, there you are!" Shannon tried to drum up a chiding expression, but she was afraid she had fallen a bit short.

For his part, Kanon at least looked abashed. "My apologies, neesan. I…" His pallid face took on a reddish tinge. "…I forgot to set my alarm clock."

"Well, I won't tell Madam or Genji-sama if you don't," Shannon promised him, "but you really need to be more careful. It reflects poorly upon me too."

The red tinge in Kanon's cheeks darkened considerably. "I know."

He did seem to understand, so Shannon smiled gently and changed the subject. "Genji-sama just wants you to shadow me for now, so it's not going to be that hard. All you've got to do right now is watch what I'm doing."

Kanon nodded. "That seems simple enough."

"And remember: don't try to start a conversation with a member of the family or a guest. Just bow and say 'Good morning' or 'Good afternoon.'"

"I _know_, neesan."

"Well, I just wanted to be sure."

Kanon's first day as a servant of the Ushiromiya family was a good one, Shannon thought. The family who had come for the conference had left late last night, so the island was mostly deserted. Master and Milady were holed up in their study and room, respectively. Krauss-sama was in Niijima on business, and since Shannon didn't have table duty today, she actually managed to avoid Madam for most of the day.

After Shannon finished dusting the first floor, she moved on to vacuuming. She was careful to be especially meticulous today; Kanon wasn't the only one who needed to make a good impression, and Shannon knew that he would take his cues on how neat and thorough he needed to be from her. She _had _to be a good role model for him.

Once she was able to look at that idea as something besides a source of stress, Shannon actually took to it rather well. This was the first time there had ever been a servant at Rokkenjima who was younger than her. She had been the senior of other servants, but Asune and Berune had never truly taken her seriously, and Manon was (sad to say) a dishonest girl who would respect Shannon to her face but laugh at her behind her back. Kanon, on the other hand, was not only younger than her, but was someone Shannon had had a good relationship with in the Fukuin House. It was the first time she had ever had someone who looked up to her.

Shannon and Kanon spoke off and on to each other over the course of the day. Shannon explained more of what would be expected of Kanon as a servant of the Ushiromiya family. In return, Kanon filled her in on the news at the Fukuin house that she missed, being away so often. A few of the kids they had known had been adopted; one of the senior supervisors had retired. If they didn't say much beyond that, well, Kanon was such a quiet boy that he just didn't have much to say. Shannon understood that. They lapsed into companionable silence.

Shannon had thought that this was a good day, but came evening, it turned out that someone disagreed.

"Shannon, come here," Madam told her. There were lines furrowed deep into her brow, and her face had the pinched, scrunched-up look that usually heralded the beginnings of a headache.

Somewhat tremulously, Shannon came to stand in front of her. "Yes, Madam?" She stared carefully down at her feet. _What does she want? _Shannon wondered. _I did everything right today. Are my clothes wrinkled? _She checked her clothes, but they looked fine. _Did she notice how red my face was this morning?_

"What were you supposed to be doing today?" Madam asked sharply, arms folded across her chest.

"I dusted the first floor today, Madam. I vacuumed once I was done."

"Vacuuming? Oh, yes, Shannon, you were _supposed _to be vacuuming, but as it stands you have _not _done what you were supposed to do."

Shannon felt her face grow hot. She had been extra-thorough in her cleaning today; she couldn't think of anything about her vacuuming that would invite reproach. But Madam steered her to four rooms that had not been vacuumed to her standards, and sure enough, it seemed that Shannon had missed some bits of dust or straw (likely tracked in from the outside) on the floor in those rooms. "You will re-vacuum these rooms immediately, and you will do it _correctly_ this time. I will inspect the rooms when you are finished, and if I find them unsatisfactory, you will redo your work as many times as necessary until you get it right. I'll not have you debase the name of the Ushiromiya family by doing otherwise. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Madam," Shannon mumbled. Her heart knotted with shame. _I guess I didn't do such a good job after all._

With that, Madam stalked out of the room, leaving Shannon to start re-vacuuming the designated rooms. Shannon's stomach grumbled with hunger; she'd eaten lunch around two in the afternoon and it was nearly eight now. However, Madam would be even angrier if she knew that Shannon had stopped to eat. There was nothing for it but to keep on working.

_I still haven't finished all of my homework for school this week. I hope I don't have to stay up too late finishing it now._

…_Am I still so incompetent?_

"She's wrong."

Kanon glared at the door, as though he thought he could transmit his anger form the door to Madam that way. "Neesan, there's nothing wrong with your work," he insisted. "You've been working all day, just like you do every day. Madam's never had to work a day in her life; what does _she _know about your work?"

Shannon smiled gently at him, but said, "You shouldn't say such things, Kanon-kun. Madam is a member of the Ushiromiya family, and we're just servants. It's not our place to question her. You should speak of Madam more respectfully."

Kanon's scowl only deepened. "Why should I treat Madam with respect when she doesn't treat you with any respect at all?"

-0-0-0-

Sayo went back up to her room with Madam's words still ringing in her ears. After she finished her homework, she lied back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling, frowning.

It… had felt good, to have Kanon criticize Madam. It should not have; it really should not have. Shannon spoke the truth—Madam was a member of the Ushiromiya family, Sayo was a servant, and whatever Madam decided was right and just, and not something Sayo could argue against. God wouldn't look favorably upon her disrespecting Madam like that.

But when Kanon said the words, she could not silence him. Once the words started to be said, they flowed out like a river bursting the bonds of ice at winter's end. It felt good to have Kanon stand up for Shannon. It felt good to have Kanon get angry. It felt good to have Kanon call Madam 'wrong' and say that someone who'd never worked a day in her life had no idea how hard it was to do so.

"Well, of course," Beatrice said. She stood by the window with her back to Sayo as it often was now, with her long golden hair coursing well past her shoulders. She turned towards Sayo briefly and smiled without mirth. "It always feels good to speak evil words."

Sayo turned on her bed and laid sideways, arms curled over her head. Her brow furrowed, and a troubled feeling unfurled in her chest.

Now that Kanon was with her, she did not think she could do without him. She needed someone who would stand up for Shannon (for her), and needed someone who could give voice to the words that Shannon could never say or even think. She needed someone who could be bitter. She needed someone who didn't have to be happy all the time.

(She needed someone to shoulder the burden of her pain, as well. That was what Beatrice was for now. Beatrice would hold on to Sayo's feelings of pain and uncertainty, of abandonment. It would be Beatrice who waited without hope. Sayo had shifted that back-breaking burden to Beatrice. It was not hers anymore. She was not the one who pined for Battler-sama anymore. So why did she still feel that dull, constant ache?)

But it wasn't enough to have Kanon as a ghost-like creature who could only reassure Shannon and glare at those who had given him offense. Kanon could speak only to Shannon, and that wasn't enough. Sayo needed Kanon to be someone who could lift his voice where others could hear him, and she alone could make that happen.

It would be easy enough to get her hands on a boy servant's uniform. Genji-sama kept them in a closet in the servants' quarters, the same as the girl servants' uniforms when they weren't being used (And sometimes Sayo wondered where the uniform she had worn as a little girl had come from; did it used to be more common for small children to become servants on Rokkenjima?). The closet wasn't locked and if she went down especially early in the morning she could sneak one up without anyone noticing.

_But how will I explain this to Genji-sama or Kumasawa-san? _Sayo wondered anxiously. _Genji-sama carries out the inspections of prospective servants and he approves their employment. He would know right away that Kanon hadn't been selected to work on Rokkenjima. _Sayo imagined trying to explain her desire to work part of the time as a boy servant to Genji-sama, and failed.

_I suppose I'll just have to think of something._

It would be easy enough to pass as a boy too. Sayo hadn't started her period yet, she was taller than a lot of the girl at her school now (though she'd probably make a short boy), and her gawky, boyish physique wouldn't betray her as a girl in boy's clothing. _I might actually look better in boy's clothes than I do in girl's, _Sayo thought gloomily. _After all, my body already looks like a boy's. _Wearing her hair long threw a wrench into this plan—Sayo's hair was the only particularly feminine thing about her (even her voice, though lighter than a boy's, was deeper than was considered attractive in a young girl), and she would not have cut it for the world—but if the cap boy servants wore was as large as the one girl servants wore, Sayo supposed she could tie her hair into a tight knob and wear her cap so it covered the knob. She'd wear her bangs loose so it would look more natural.

Shannon and Kanon's physical appearances and mannerisms would have to be differentiated further. Well, Sayo supposed Shannon could start speaking in a higher-pitched voice, and Kanon would speak in a slightly deeper voice than Sayo normally did. He would use 'boku' as a personal pronoun instead of 'watashi' and otherwise speak more formally than Shannon did. Sayo had a curling iron that Milady Jessica had secretly given her for her birthday long ago. If she bought a straightening iron the next time she was on the mainland, she could curl her hair as Shannon and straighten it as Kanon. Perhaps Shannon could start wearing makeup as well. Shannon would smile all the time, and Kanon, being a gloomy boy, would smile but rarely.

Of course, Sayo needed to avoid the chance that the family or Manon would recognize Kanon for Shannon. Assuming that she could get Genji-sama to agree to this, perhaps she could persuade him to give Kanon mostly just jobs outside where he would be less likely to run into members of the family or the female servants, who mostly worked inside. Beyond that, it would be imperative to ensure that Shannon and Kanon were never on duty at the same time.

She could do this. She _had _to do this. What Sayo had tasted in Kanon today was not something she could live without.

As her thoughts began to shift from her plans, Sayo felt a pang. She couldn't imagine what the adults at the Fukuin House would say if they could hear her now. She was a _girl. _Even if she made a very poor girl indeed, God had made her a girl, and to start wearing boy's clothing and pretending to be a boy was an affront against God. It was a sin against God, who had meant for Sayo to live as a girl and as a woman.

Sayo squeezed her eyes shut, and shook her head. _I've already committed many sins against God, none of which I can ever confess. This seems like a pittance in comparison to those._

She needed this too badly for her to be ruled by her qualms.

-0-0-0-

Sayo had expected that explaining her plan to Genji-sama and Kumasawa-san and enlisting their support would be the most difficult hurdle to pass. It had taken her four days to figure out how to phrase it, and another week for her to work up the nerve to ask them for their help. But oddly enough, she didn't have a hard time eliciting their aid at all.

Kumasawa-san immediately loved the idea of Sayo starting to work as Kanon. To her, it was a wonderful prank to be played on everyone who wasn't in the know. Of course she would help her, Kumasawa-san assured Sayo.

Genji-sama paused for a long moment. He stared at Sayo very hard, as though trying to divine her thoughts. But when he spoke, he told her to wait a month, as that was how long it took for him to approve the selection of a new servant from the Fukuin House. Kanon would be assigned mostly outdoors' work, but he would also be one of the few servants allowed to wait directly upon Master.

_Kanon will wear the One-Winged Eagle on his clothes, _Sayo thought with awe. She (no, _Shannon_; it was Shannon, now) had been shown a great deal of favor by Master, certainly, but wearing the One-Winged Eagle was another matter altogether. Not even everyone who was a member of the Ushiromiya family was allowed to wear the One-Winged Eagle; those who had married into the family certainly weren't.

_Madam won't be pleased, _Sayo mused. _Eva-sama always makes a point to needle her about that when she thinks Madam's over-stepping her bounds. Madam may not mind that Genji-sama wears the Eagle—Genji-sama's served Master for decades now—but if a young boy servant is allowed that honor right away, she'll be ill-disposed to him from the start._

_But Kanon can handle it, I think. He's a resolute boy; he can handled undeserved animosity._

At first, Sayo had balked a little at the idea of waiting a moment to introduce Kanon to the world of Rokkenjima. But Genji-sama insisted, and when Sayo thought about it, it was probably better that way. A month would give Kanon time to become more concrete of an image. There would be less of a chance for slip-ups that way.

It would be such a relief to be someone else. If Sayo had to wait a month for that, so be it.

-0-0-0-

His birth name was Yoshiya, though the blessed name he had been given to use as a servant of the Ushiromiya family was Kanon, and 'Kanon' would be how he was called now. He had a surname, but Kanon didn't see why anyone would really want to know. If asked, he would answer 'Yasuda' and no one would be able to tell if he was telling the truth or not.

Today, this stunningly bright, chilly day in November, was Kanon's first day of work at the Ushiromiya mansion on Rokkenjima. Truth be told, even though all the kids at the Fukuin House who wanted to do well in the world vied for such a position, Kanon was pretty neutral towards the idea of being a servant of the Ushiromiya family. He had mostly accepted the post in order to be closer to Shannon.

Shannon was an older girl at the Fukuin House whom Kanon had always looked up to. Though Shannon wasn't very popular with the other kids, she had always been kind to Kanon and he thought of her as something of an older sister. Shannon's long hours at Rokkenjima had largely taken her away from the Fukuin House for years, and this seemed like the best way for them to spend time together. It wasn't like either of them were really going to be adopted, anyways.

Kanon certainly hadn't agreed to become a servant for the work, well-paying as it might have been. Boy servants were mostly set to do outdoors work (though if there was a shortage inside, Kanon would be called in) and Kanon in particular was trimming the rose bushes and replanting a few new saplings that had been ripped out of the ground, roots and all, during a recent storm. The work was in intervals mind-numbing and back-breaking, and Kanon had no idea why such a young boy was being asked to replant _trees_.

_You'd think Madam would get one of the adults to do this instead, _Kanon grumbled mentally as he struggled to right a downed oak sapling. _But what does she know? She doesn't actually care about us servants; she barely even looked at me this morning when we were introduced. If we don't perform to her standards she'll go red in the face and scream at us, but if we do the job right she doesn't even notice. What an awful woman._

_I must not be much of a man, though, if this is getting to me. _He scowled and hefted the oak sapling in his arms, only to fall to the ground. _I _will _finish this._

Madam was thus far the only member of the Ushiromiya family Kanon had met. Master was in a terrible mood and had been shut up in his study for days; Krauss-sama and Milady Jessica proved elusive, and Kanon had no interest in seeking them out. Since Kanon would be attending upon Master directly, he hoped Master would be more personable than Madam had been, but somehow, he doubted it highly. Shannon said that Master could be very kind, but Kanon had heard too many stories that said unequivocally otherwise.

Kanon did like Genji-sama and Kumasawa-san, though. Kumasawa-san was a kind, if somewhat lazy woman; however, though she did tend to slack off of work, she didn't try to pass her work on to other people, so that was definitely a mark in her favor. She gave Kanon a few words of advice on who in the Ushiromiya family to avoid and whose favor to court, and she treated him as though he had always been there without expecting him to know everything that he was supposed to do. Genji-sama was grave and sober and professional, everything Kanon knew he should aspire to be as a man. Kanon knew from Genji-sama's behavior towards him that he could trust him as a mentor.

Kawano-san the cook was alright, Kanon supposed, though he didn't really care for Kawano-san's constant air of irritation. The other adult servants who worked here part-time were alright too, especially the man who had eventually come to Kanon's rescue with the saplings (Though it was still deeply embarrassing to have to admit that he couldn't do this himself).

And then there was Manon.

-0-0-0-

"He was so rude!" Manon exclaimed, her face red with indignation. "I just asked him if he wanted to spend the afternoon break with me and he said I'd make bad company! Who does that?!"

Shannon grimaced slightly. "I suppose Kanon-kun just isn't much of a people person."

Manon snorted indelicately. "You're too nice, Shannon. Kanon's just a jerk; that's all there is to it." She frowned. "I hate to admit, but I actually thought he looked kind of cute," she muttered.

Shannon said nothing.

-0-0-0-

A week after Kanon started work at Rokkenjima, Master finally consented to allow someone other than Genji-sama into his study. It was at this point that Kanon was finally introduced to Ushiromiya Kinzo, head of the Ushiromiya family.

"Kanon, at your service." Kanon barely remembered to doff his cap before bowing, and probably replaced it too soon after bowing. He managed to keep his expression neutral, though, if only barely. It was oddly difficult to meet Master's gaze.

Master stared back at Kanon with strangely piercing gray eyes. He looked Kanon up and down, eyes narrowing. There was something about his stare that made the hairs on the back of Kanon's neck stand up. _What will he say to me?_

But then, unexpectedly, Master chuckled. "Well, come here, boy. I have some questions for you."

* * *

><p>Just a note: 'Watashi' and 'boku' are personal pronouns in Japanese. 'Watashi' is gender-neutral, associated both with women and with men, though a man whose uses this pronoun in an informal situation might come across as a bit effeminate. 'Boku', on the other hand, is a masculine pronoun mostly used by young boys.<p> 


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